In the Beginning
by Diana M
Summary: A career sergeant gathers the troops for a new anti terrorist team called, "G.I. Joe"
1. Default Chapter

part 1

  
Ever wonder where Scarlett missed Duke from, even by That much? How did  
the Joes get together, and what was like life for America's heroes before the call to  
Duty? Here's a possible situation.  
  
  
  


In the Beginning: part 1  
  
Diana M.  


  
  
  
  
Sergeant Conrad Hauser relaxed on the porch with a frosty glass of beer. That  
last class had been a rough one. He sighed as he thought of how the lives he had   
changed over the past six months. The men he had made, and those he had broken.  
He closed his eyes, and saw the disappointed faces of the men he had cut; bullied  
into utter submission, and then sent away in the disgrace of failure. Then again,   
Uncle Sam couldn't afford weakness, not in special forces. Any normal man would   
crumble under the pressure of the horrors of what could go on behind enemy lines.  
Take the Nam, for instance.  
  
Near-dead troops sweating in bamboo tiger cages. Starved, beaten, baked in   
the slimy heat that hung on you like a soggy sweater. Those that were lucky died  
fast of their injuries. The others festered slowly away into madness. Sometimes,   
the V.C. would torture the officers. Bamboo splinters under fingernails. Or   
perhaps a slow skinning. He couldn't leave them there..he had to go after them...   
Free them all. Damn the C.O.. You can't just leave good men to rot. Fifty men,   
abandoned by whatever cause they thought they were fighting for. He could only   
get thirty out. The others were already goners. He could never forget the gobbetts of  
rotting flesh, both dead and alive, strewn around the interrogation room and in  
cages. Faces twisted in fear and pain. Unable to even move and save   
themselves..How could he have left them behind? How could he have...  
  
The screen door slammed, and a black haired lighting bolt streaked onto the   
porch, jolting him back to the present.   
  
Don't tell her which way I went! the lightning bolt flashed off towards the  
barn, a casting a nervous look back towards the house as it went. It's escape was   
quickly followed by a loud screech from the kitchen.  
  
VINCENT!!!! Get back here this very instant! the dark bolt made it to the barn and slipped inside to safety. VINCENT! I'M SERIOUS! YOU JUST WAIT,   
YOUNG MAN! YOUR FATHER WILL BE HOME SOON!! The screen slammed   
again. Conrad smiled to himself as his mother dropped, exasperated, into the deck   
chair next to him. She sighed, Sometimes I wonder about that boy.   
  
What'd he do this time? Conrad took a slow sip of his beer, and savored   
its rich hoppy flavor. Definitely worth the extra cash. The cheap American stuff   
wasn't worth the cans they sold it in.  
  
I was making his bed, and I found THESE under the mattress, Conrad's  
mother dropped a stack of magazines on the table next to her. Each one had  
a shot of a naked woman on the cover. The poses left nothing to the imagination.  
He walked in just as I pulled them out. I've never seen him move so fast.  
  
Conrad laughed, Don't tell me you weren't expecting it, he finished of the  
last swig of beer and set the glass on the table next to the magazines. He picked one  
off the top and thumbed through it, He's getting to be that age, you know. Girls,  
girls, and more girls. It's not exactly unnatural.  
  
You were never this bad, she waved vaguely at the magazines. Conrad  
leaned back and put his feet up on the rail.  
  
Not that you found out, anyhow. Damn, he stopped at a particularly  
lurid centerfold, They weren't like this when I was his age. His mother snatched  
it from his hand.  
  
Please, leave me with some fantasy of a virtuous son, she took the stack   
and stood up, I'd better get started on dinner, Jack should be home any minute  
now.  
  
Need any help?  
  
No, you relax out here, its a beautiful evening. She stooped and kissed  
him on the top of his head, It's good to have you home, dear.   
  
Mommy, I'm hungry. When's dinner? a high pitched whine drifted down  
from an upstairs window.  
  
The more help I get from you girls, the sooner you eat.  
  
A different whine filtered down; an anguished, preteen lament, Why US?  
Vince is in trouble, get him.  
  
Conrad chuckled. He's out of range, he called towards the window.  
  
Come on, girls, I'll take care of your brother when I see him.  
  
Not if he sees you first, the first whine returned.  
  
How much TV does THAT one watch? Conrad grinned at his mother.  
  
For her, any amount is too much.   
  
The front door slammed, OK, troops, I'm home! Jane? What's for dinner?  
  
I swear, this family's got a one track mind. She rolled her eyes and  
turned to go inside, calling as she went, Jack, you'll never believe what I  
found in your son's room!   
  
***************  
Conrad pulled open the barn door and flipped on the lights. He inhaled  
deeply, relishing the warm clean smell of fresh hay and alfalfa. Sometimes, on   
base, he considered having a bale or two shipped to his quarters. Nothing calmed a  
person down like the smell of a well stocked barn. He put the tray he was  
carrying down on a shelf next to a ball of twine and looked up into the dusky loft.  
  
I brought you your dinner.   
  
A shadow peered over the edge.  
  
I'm not hungry.  
  
Conrad snorted, Sure you're not. I'll just eat this myself. You know  
how I love lasagna. Heck, I'll even eat your dessert, too.  
  
The shadow leaned closer over the edge of the loft. Is it cold?  
  
No, I heated it up a bit. The cheese is just melting out between the pasta.  
Damn, you'd better take my pitiful bait and come down, cause I think I really might  
be able to handle fourths of this stuff. I don't get fed this way on base.  
  
The shadow slid back from the edge. A dark shape slid down the ladder at the  
other end of the barn. Vincent slouched over and grabbed the plate off the shelf  
and took a bite. He eagerly began to bolt down the slab of lasagna. There was hay  
in his hair. Conrad leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. Take your time,  
don't you kid?  
  
Vincent cleaned his plate, glugged down the soda without stopping, and  
started in on the cake. He smiled up at his older brother, he managed to  
speak through a mouthful of chocolate and frosting.  
  
No problem. I wouldn't go inside before Mom goes to bed, if I were you.  
  
How mad is she? Vincent wiped a blob of frosting off his mouth and  
licked his fingers  
  
I wouldn't say mad as much as shocked, Conrad handed him a paper   
napkin, Mama's don't like to think of their little boys getting off on nudie books.  
  
Most guys do.  
  
Sure, but you don't have to let her think about it. I mean, can you picture  
Mom and Jack?  
  
Vincent gagged,   
  
Um. Well, you being here is pretty good evidence . And Jennifer.  
And Drew, Conrad smiled as his brother winced.  
  
Don't remind me.  
  
Yeah, well. Look, Kid. I'm not telling you to stop thinking about sex, cause  
you couldn't, even if you tried. How old are you now?  
  
I'll be fifteen next June, Vincent puffed his chest out.  
  
Conrad grinned. It was only August now, Fifteen. Man, can't wait, can   
you?  
  
I'm getting bigger. Standing straight, Vincent could look Conrad right  
in the chest. Last time Conrad was home, his brother had been three inches shorter,  
and skinny as a rail.  
  
Yeah, you'll shoot up pretty soon, I reckon.  
  
I already shaved once, last month.  
  
Well, there you go. Anyway, back on track...Like I said, sex is going to be  
thought number one, pretty much from now on. Just, well, be a little more  
discreet, will you?  
  
What'd you mean? Vincent belched unceremoniously.  
  
Well, for starters, under the mattress. C'mon! You're practically begging  
to get found out, especially since you refuse to make your own bed. If you aren't  
going to clean your own damn room, don't hide stuff in there.  
  
O.K. Einstein, where do you suggest? Vincent's lower jaw always stiffened  
when he got angry. Conrad wondered to himself if he did the same thing.  
  
Look around you, squirt.  
  
Oh, huh.  
  
You'd better start locking doors, too. Mom always walks in when you  
least expect her.  
  
But there isn't a lock on my room!  
  
Well, don't do anything in there you wouldn't want her to see. Trust me,  
you'll feel like dying if she catches you. And what if Jen or, worse, Drew, comes  
in on something?   
Oh, man. Vincent blushed, Can we stop talking about this? I get the idea.  
  
You'd better. I don't want to get any calls in the future about my perverted  
little brother whacking off in front of poor mother. You put her through enough as  
it is. Conrad stacked the now empty plates back on the tray. Oh, yeah, another  
thing. You start smoking, I'll rip your lungs out before you can ruin em yourself.  
  
Where'd THAT come from?  
  
Just want to cover all those brotherly bases while I'm at it, Conrad felt  
satisfied. Rarely did he have the chance to talk one on one with Vincent.  
  
Hey, Con.  
  
  
  
What's it like? Vincent ran his fingers through his hair, pushing out a  
few blades of hay.  
  
  
  
Vincent turned deep red, Sex. With a girl. Is it really great?  
  
Conrad rubbed his chin thoughtfully, That's a pretty good description,   
he smiled down at the kid.  
  
I bet. Jessie Tompson says it's a blast.  
  
Conrad raised his brows, Jessie? He's that kid I met last year?  
  
Yeah, the guy from Florida. Says he had girls all the time down there,   
Vincent looked serious, He says they go wild for those French ticklers.  
  
Conrad snorted, Trust me, it's on hundred per cent bull. Jessie Tompson   
hasn't done shit.  
  
Vincent looked out the barn door at the stars, Yeah, I THOUGHT it was all  
crap. Just didn't want him to feel bad, you know?  
  
Sure, Kid. Let him feel like a big man. Conrad thumped his brother on  
the back. It was odd to see the guy grow up.  
  
You think I can go in now?  
  
Conrad checked his watch. It was 10:00. Slip up the kitchen stairs and go  
to bed. I'll distract them for you.  
  
Ok, but I'm not really tired, Vincent yawned.  
  
Right, you weren't very hungry, either, Conrad picked up the tray.   
Vincent followed him out of the barn, sliding the door shut behind them. Together  
they walked to the house.   
  
They went quietly in to the kitchen, and Vincent slid softly up the stairs to  
his room, praying not to wake up Jennifer and Drew. Conrad loaded the dirty  
plates into the dishwasher, and threw the empty can away. He was putting the   
tray back on top of the refrigerator when the hatch doors slid open and his  
stepfather Jack looked in.  
  
You had a call, son. Someone from Benning, I think. Couldn't recognize  
the voice, though.  
  
Its too late to call back east now. I'll call tomorrow morning, Conrad  
washed his hands off and pushed through the swinging doors into the den. His  
mother looked up from the her book.  
  
Did he eat?  
  
Yeah, it was gone in under two minutes. Kid likes his food.  
  
She tried to look uninterested, Did you talk about...things?  
  
Uh-huh. Caught up a little, Conrad dropped into an easy chair, Told him  
to keep stuff out of your way. he smiled as his mother winced exactly the same as   
Vincent had.  
  
I suppose that's a step, isn't it dear?  
  
Jack had hidden himself behind the paper. He grunted affirmatively. Conrad  
picked up the sports section.  
  
Conrad, would you like something to drink? I believe I'll warm up some  
cocoa, She put down her book and stretched.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Jane Falcone looked at her husband and her son. She shook her head and   
smiled to herself. It was good to have everyone together.  
***********  
  
NEXT: What was that phone call about? Will this blissful domestic tranquility be  
shattered. (Well, Duh!)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. 2

Part 2

Part 2:  
Diana M.  
  


  
Conrad was awakened suddenly the next morning by the force of a black-  
haired, freckled devil landing on his stomach.  
  
Morning, Con! It's Saturday! the devil started jumping up and down on  
his bed. Her pajamas glowed brightly pink in the still dark room.  
  
Conrad rolled over and looked at his clock. It was just gone five, Well,  
technically, yes. He sat up and stretched luxuriously. The sun wasn't even up   
yet. Tell me, Drew, have you ever though about knocking first?  
  
If I knock, you never get up, she continued to jump up and down.  
  
Well, yes, that was sort of what I had in mind.  
  
Pop says you're always up by 4:30, every day. Bounce, bounce, bounce.  
  
Not when I'm on leave, he grabbed her heart-bedecked pajama top and   
yanked, Quit that for a bit, will you? She flopped down and snuggled up next to him.  
What are you up so bright and early for, Rabbit?  
  
All the good shows are on early.  
  
You get up this early just to watch TV?  
  
Only on Saturday. Get up, or we'll miss Blackstar! And Thundarr's on, too!  
  
Oh, I see, I am to be part of this animated extravaganza, he smiled down  
at her. Oh, to be nine again, when the only thing you had to get up early for was  
a pack of cartoons and a bowl sugar-coated cereal. Beat a troop of bitter trainees any  
day, Might I partake in some coffee as well?  
  
Drew looked thoughtful, I don't know. Have you been good?  
  
  
  
Why do you always talk weird around me, and not Vince? She slid  
off the bed and regarded him critically.  
  
Conrad thought back to last night. He doubted he'd could ever bring himself  
to share the same kind of conversation with his kid sister. It was an embarrassing  
thought. He wanted to be far away when Drew hit puberty, It's a brother thing, I   
guess.  
  
Drew turned and padded to the door, Well, come get your coffee, then.  
She walked through the rec. room and up the stairs to the kitchen. Conrad waited  
until she was all the way before he got up and swapped the sweats he had slept in for  
a pair of jeans and a t shirt. He would put off his morning run; probably wait for the  
evening, as the August Missouri sun was too powerful for an afternoon jog. He made   
his bed neatly and went to find Drew, stepping carefully through the dark rec. room  
to avoid any weights Vincent might have forgotten to replace after his last work out.  
Conrad's room had been moved to the basement level after Drew was born, and  
Vincent had grown too old to share a room with Jennifer. The girls now shared, and  
Vincent had a room to his own; a wise idea, considering his recent emergence into the  
world of hormones.  
  
Conrad hadn't minded. He was living away from home most of the time, rotating  
between special forces school and those missions he had to keep  
to himself. Too bad; those were worth talking about.   
  
Suddenly, Conrad knew who had called last night. It hadn't been from Benning  
at all. He reached the kitchen and pulled the coffee out of the cupboard. Unground   
beans, what a luxury. Pouring them into the electric grinder, he stared at the phone  
and ruminated on this new dilemma. Was this rare domestic peace to be shattered  
already?  
  
Drew shouted to be heard over the grinder. Conrad had ground the   
beans to a fine powder, lost in thought. He poured them into the coffee maker, using  
his finger to scrape off the hard packed powder around the blades.  
  
  
  
Could ja give me a hand? Drew pointed to the cabinet over the refrigerator,  
Mom always puts the good stuff out of reach. Conrad was not surprised to find  
the cabinet full of forbidden foods of all types; chocolate, sinful looking cookies,  
a box of Three Musketeers, potato chips, cheese puffs, and two brightly colored boxes-  
no doubt containing levels of sugar just safe enough to be labeled kid cereal.  
  
My God, why does she bother buying all of this? There's enough sugar  
here to put you into orbit!  
  
Vince says she does it to torture us. Buys it, and then uses it as a, what's he  
call it?  
  
Encouragement? Motivator? Reward?  
  
Drew smiled, he says she bribes us with it.  
  
Conrad rolled his eyes, Figures. For terrors like you guys.  
Ha, ha, ha, very funny. Get me the Froot Loops. Drew plunked the milk down  
on the counter matter-of-factly and went to get a spoon.  
  
  
**********************************************   
  
Two hours and four shows later, Drew was firmly established in one of  
the biggest sugar highs Conrad had ever seen. She was hovering over the couch  
rather that sitting on it; vibrating with sucrose energy. With each commercial break,   
she jumped up and zoomed around the room a few times, luckily avoiding anything  
breakable. She collided into a few pieces of furniture; the couch, an armchair, and  
once went through the swinging kitchen door by flinging herself headlong at it. It  
was those visits to the kitchen that had done it. Conrad had been so intrigued by  
Thundarr, he hadn't realized that he'd left the box of cereal on the counter, within  
easy reach. She must have emptied the bowl five times before he noticed and   
intervened, returning the box to its safe, unreachable cabinet.  
  
The television announced another commercial break, and Conrad watched as   
Drew began her circuit around the room anew. Thank God he had been able to stop  
the shrieking. Vincent was the only one she had woken up. He grinned at his older  
brother as he went out to feed the horses, and laughed when he came back.  
  
Now you've done it, big brother.  
  
Yeah, she's flying now. I imagine it'll wear off in a little while. Drew  
bounced happily on the couch.  
  
Vincent laughed sarcastically in response and climbed upstairs and back  
to bed. Conrad sighed and got up to get another mug of coffee. Drew dive bombed  
the couch and once again fixated on the screen. She should be seeing double,  
Conrad thought to himself. He would have mentioned it to her, but he had discovered  
already that giving her an opportunity to talk was a bad idea. Shakespeare hadn't  
written such long monologues.  
  
The phone by the couch rang loudly before he managed to make it past the  
his insane little sister. Conrad set his mug down and quickly lifted the   
handset from its cradle, hoping the peal of the bell hadn't woken anyone.  
  
Good morning?  
  
Ah, sergeant, I thought I'd try to catch you early.  
  
Conrad's heart sank, You're lucky, sir, usually I'm out running in the morning.  
Behind him, someone came down the stairs. He looked over his shoulder and caught  
sight of Jennifer as she pushed through the kitchen door. Jane Falcone was shaking  
her head as she cleared up Drew's cereal bowl from the coffee table.  
  
Tricked you, didn't she dear?  
  
He nodded distractedly at his mother. She smiled and took the bowl and his  
empty mug into the kitchen. Conrad picked up Drew, tossed her to the other end   
of the couch, and sat down. She landed with a squeal and a giggle, and was soon   
reglued to the screen, entranced by happy little blue elves, no more than three  
apples high.  
  
Sergeant, I'm not going to pussy foot around. One of our recent situations  
has grown into quite a quandary. I need you to come in a soon as possible... Conrad  
felt his stomach roll over a he listened to the gravelly voice. It must have been   
important for the Colonel to call him at home; that was quite a security risk in normal  
circumstances. It would have taken quite a lot of manpower to establish a secure line  
for this one call. Then again, what sounded vague to outsiders made perfect sense  
to Conrad Hauser. The Colonel wouldn't have to say much to get his point across.  
The voice on the phone softened, I know you're on leave, son, but I'm afraid this  
is an A-1 priority. Some reorganization is in the works, and I need your input.  
  
I understand, sir, Conrad looked over at Drew. She wiggled excitedly and  
cheered on a Smurf as he once again scraped free of Gargamel's clutches. He  
sighed. Must he leave so soon? I'll be on the next plane out... He paused as he   
heard a soft clicking interrupt the line. The Colonel heard it, too.  
  
Sounds like we're not alone. This should be a safe line, dammit!  
  
Don't worry, sir. Conrad stood up and softly crept to the   
kitchen. His mother was mixing pancake batter, unaware that Jennifer had picked  
up the kitchen extension. Conrad snuck up behind his preteen sister and deftly  
snatched the handset away. He angrily slammed it down into its cradle. His mother  
jumped, and turned around. The bowl of batter smashed on the floor.  
  
Conrad! You gave me a scare. Look, now there's batter everywhere, she  
laughed as she waved at the mess, You'll just have to wait longer for my famous   
lemon hotcakes- Jennifer, whatever is the matter? Jennifer's ice blue eyes blazed  
into her oldest brother.  
  
Conrad's leaving. He's going back to base.  
  
Well, dear, you know he has an important job to do. We need well trained  
men. She bent and began mopping up spilt batter with a wet rag, Three weeks is  
really a long time for him. How about we have a little party for him next week before he  
goes? Jane Falcone smiled up at her two children.  
  
Jennifer crossed her arms and snorted, Better plan it quick, Mom. He's leaving  
today.  
  
Conrad felt his heart sink deeper as his mother regarded him with concerned,  
sad eyes. Her voice was just a whisper.   
  
He couldn't stand it. He turned and stormed out of the kitchen, only to  
find Drew deep in conversation with the Colonel on the den extension.  
  
So I TOLD him not to get Brainy, Brainy's the stupidest one around. I like  
Handy. But did he get me Handy? Oh, nooooooo, he has to go and get me Brainy,  
just like I told him not to. Now I have two Brainy's, who I don't even like, and no   
Handy.  
  
Gimme that! Conrad swiped the phone and slid down again onto the couch.  
Drew blew him a raspberry and bounced off to the kitchen to see what their mother was  
getting ready for breakfast. Conrad wondered how much she could put away in a day.  
  
Quite the talker, isn't she? Conrad was relieved to hear amusement in the  
Colonel's voice. Is the situation clear, Sergeant?  
  
Yes, sir. My other sister was eavesdropping, she assumes I'm heading  
back to base. Conrad switched off the set and tossed the remote on the table.  
  
Good, soldier. Your siblings are very young, it was more comment than   
question.  
  
Yes, sir. My mother remarried after my father was killed. She had me  
very early on.  
  
Yes, I recall reading it in your file. Not yet twenty when you were born...  
Conrad couldn't help feeling like an open book. None of them share your name?  
  
No sir, my mother changed her name when she remarried.  
  
That makes it easier.  
  
This last remark confused Conrad somewhat.   
  
Your life is about to take a drastic change of direction, Sergeant. I'll  
explain when you arrive. Best say your goodbyes now. It may be a while before  
you have free time to see them again. Your ticket will be waiting for you at the airport.  
Be there in three hours, The Colonel's voice had an air of finality.  
  
Conrad felt a twinge in his stomach, Yes, sir, Colonel Abernanthy. He slowly  
hung up and dropped his head in his hands. A week and a half, that was all the  
leave he got. Hardly enough time to reacquaint himself with his own family. They  
were changing so fast! Growing up, discovering new things about life--would he  
have to miss it all?  
  
Problems, son? Jack Falcone rested a hand on his stepson's shoulder.  
  
Conrad slid his fingers across his scalp and looked up at his stepfather,  
I'm being called back to base. I have to leave today, almost right away, He rubbed  
his chin, I don't know when I'll be back. Mother, well, I doubt she'll understand.  
  
Jack frowned to himself, Does she know?  
  
Thanks to Jennifer listening in. Conrad jerked his thumb at the kitchen door,   
I promised her I'd be here for three weeks! I really thought I would. But I can't  
control when they need me. My life's not my own.  
  
Jack strode over to the wall and stroked the frame of display box holding  
his medals, a mix of service and campaign awards, No, son, she wouldn't   
understand. The life of a soldier is one of loyalty and unquestioning service. Jack  
Falcone's medals glinted brightly on the black velvet background, A soldier makes  
the ultimate sacrifice to save lives. Jack looked to the left, to where his stepson's  
medals hung in a similar frame. His heart swelled with pride as he took in the  
medal of honor and the two bronze stars, Son, I'm not one to brag, but I have served  
quite some time, trained quite a few men in my own career. I have no compunction   
against telling you that you are one of the finest soldiers I've come across.  
  
Conrad felt himself turn red,   
  
No, Conrad, let me finish. I know the training others isn't the same as life on  
the battlefield, but you and I both know that its just as important-   
  
Conrad longed to tell  
his stepfather the truth, about his secret missions between classes. It burned at him  
that a large part of his service went unknown. That his death in one of these missions  
would most likely be recorded as an accident. Of all the commendations he could  
never share because of their classified nature.  
  
Jack continued to stare at the medals as he spoke, You came back from  
Vietnam a hero, son. I always knew you were special. The way you always stood  
up for the little guy...I'm proud of you, Conrad. You're not my own son, Jack turned.   
There were tears in his eyes, but I wish to Hell you were. I damn  
well love you like you are.   
  
Conrad was touched, awkwardly so. Jack was not one to speak about   
emotions. He looked into his stepfather's eyes, Jack, I...You helped me more, more  
then I can ever repay. We were all alone until you came, he could barely remember  
those years between his father's murder and Jack's arrival in their lives. He'd pushed  
them as far out of his mind as they could go. You were always there for me when I   
needed you.  
  
Jack beamed, You go get ready what you need to, son. I'll talk to your  
mother, he slapped Conrad on the shoulder on the way to the kitchen.  
  
As Conrad got up to go pack, he noticed Vincent staring at him from the landing.  
He must have been standing there for several minutes, listening. He stared at  
Conrad for a minute or two, in an odd, focused way, then continued down the stairs  
and towards the kitchen door, You're lucky, big brother, he said evenly as he passed,  
He never talks to me that way.  
  
  
****************************************  
  
(What went into the founding of G. I. Joe? Find out next time!)  
  
  



	3. 3

part 3

Part 3  
Diana M.  
  


  
Conrad sat mutely looking out the car window as St Louis flashed by. He had  
been surprised when his mother volunteered to take him to the airport; she   
usually left that task to Jack, saying goodbye at the house. When he had left for  
'Nam, his mother had sobbed and kissed him repeatedly, but refused to go to  
see him off. It was to painful for Jane Falcone to watch her first boy actually leave.  
She couldn't bear to see that cold, impersonal plane loft him into the sky and away  
from her safe, loving arms. A plane similar to the one that had carried Conrad's  
murdered father back to Germany to be buried on family ground. She  
had come home from the funeral and never flown again.  
  
So it was with a combination of surprise and concern that kept Conrad quiet  
as he sat next to his mother as they drove towards the airport and the plane that would   
take him, unbeknownst to her, into more danger than he had ever faced before. He  
turned from the window and saw that the tears had not yet stopped falling.   
Perhaps he should have offered to drive out. But she had already turned down   
Jack's offer, and forbade anyone else to accompany them. They were alone   
together. This reminded Conrad ever more of his father's death. The few years they  
had spent, just the two of them, had been both terrible and wonderful. He rarely  
had her to himself since then.  
  
Conrad leaned back in his seat and sighed deeply.  
  
How long do you think it will be before we see you again? Jane Falcone  
stared intently at the road ahead.   
  
I'm not sure, he turned to face her again, I think it could be a while this time.  
  
And we only had you a little while. Vincent, Drew and Jennifer never get to  
see their big brother. She dabbed at her eyes with a crumpled tissue.  
  
They'll be OK. Vincent's almost a teenager, and the girls never saw much  
of me, anyway, Conrad offered his mother a clean tissue from the box on the floor,  
Besides, most men my age would be starting a family of their own by now, anyhow.  
  
I know, I know, a fresh river of tears coursed their way down her cheeks, and  
I'd have grandchildren, and a daughter in law to deal with, She smiled at him with  
wet eyes, you don't seem to have anyone,dear.  
  
No, I don't have time for anything serious.  
  
Aren't you lonely? She sounded concerned.  
  
Conrad ran his fingers through his hair, Truthfully...yes.   
Sometimes, when its late, and dark, and I'm all alone, I get real lonely, he thought  
to himself of all those nights on base when he went alone to bed, longing for someone  
to talk to. Worse were the special missions, when he could spend days huddled in   
some blind or hideout, silently watching his most recent target. That loneliness could  
eat through a man quickly, leaving a bitter,cold shell. Conrad had almost lost himself  
several times. There were a few debriefing sessions he would rather never think  
about again, But, Mom, I don't have time for anyone.  
  
You should make time, Conrad. You work too hard. You serve your country  
well, dear, but you forget about yourself.  
  
He wished he could. Conrad doubted he could find a woman who   
would put up with the constant disappearances his secret missions caused. Base  
life was hard enough on a relationship. Few women could stand life with a man  
called away mysteriously and often. It was tough on his family already. He kept  
them from finding out what he was really doing by being known as an instructor   
important enough to be mostly inaccessible.  
  
A sign on the side of the expressway announced the airport was nearing.  
They had managed to distract themselves for a little while, but the inevitable soon  
became unavoidable. Conrad watched as his mother grabbed the tissue pile  
that had collected next to her on the seat and began stuffing a few into her sleeves  
for later use. He laughed softly to himself. For as long as he could remember, his  
mother had always had a tissue stashed up her sleeve; for wiping runny noses,  
dabbing cuts, spit shining faces, or soothing away tears.  
  
They lapsed into silence again, trapped by the coming goodbye that neither   
of them could face, let alone discuss. They pulled off the expressway, and turned into  
the airport. Everywhere, planes of all sizes were landing and taking off. Hundreds of   
people on the move; some arriving, some leaving, some just stopping through. So   
many destinies reached and begun; all from this one point. Conrad wondered  
just what he was getting himself into. Abernathy had said his life was going to take  
a drastic turn, but he hadn't said where.  
  
Which terminal, dear? His mother was quiet; matter of fact. There was no   
turning back now.  
  
American. Over there.  
  
She pulled the car over to the white curb. They sat in silence for a minute.  
  
You don't want to see me off? Conrad wasn't sure which he preferred.  
  
No..No, I don't think so, dear. The curb was a bustle of passengers being  
picked up and dropped off. No, I'll say a quick goodbye here, she fished a tissue  
from her sleeve and reached to pull the lever that popped the trunk. It opened with a  
metallic thud. They climbed out and he swung his ruck and duffel from the trunk to the  
curb. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned to face her. His mother; smiling  
at him while tears flowed freely from her soft loving eyes. She was the strongest   
person he knew, really. She had worked hard to keep him going after his father had  
died and left them alone. Together, they had taken on the world, and won.   
  
Make sure you get enough sleep, and eat three square meals a day, you hear   
me? She dabbed her eyes with the crumpled tissue, And don't drink too much, it  
can get you into more trouble than its worth. Your uncle drank too much, and now he's  
paying for it, you've seen, the tissue made a return trip, Write your brother and   
sisters. You don't know it, but they idolize you. They need to hear from you. She  
hid her anxiety in a flow of motherly babble. He cut her off with a powerful embrace,  
and she began to sob quietly into his shoulder.  
  
I love you, mamma. Goodbye. Quickly, so she couldn't see his own tears, he   
turned, slung his ruck over his shoulder, picked up his duffel, and strode into the  
terminal. He couldn't bear to turn around. He didn't know when he'd see her again.  
He'd regained his composure by the time he reached the reservations counter. The  
woman behind the counter gave him an overly perky smile.  
  
Good afternoon sir. And how may I help you?  
  
Conrad cleared his throat, I should have a ticket waiting for me; sergeant   
Hauser.  
  
The woman's brow crinkled in thought as she searched for his reservation.  
She beamed when she found his ticket and held it up, Yes, here we are, sir. One  
way to National airport. Are you sure you don't want to purchase a return ticket, sir?  
We're having a special offer this week on round-trip flights inside the continental U.S.,  
  
No...That won't be necessary.  
  
If you're sure, sir. Your flight leaves in ten minutes. Gate A-3, she flashed him  
a blinding smile and held out his papers.  
  
Conrad took his ticket and headed through the security terminal. The attendant  
noticed the fruit salad' on his chest, and snapped him a tight salute. Conrad could  
tell by the way the man stood that he had served. Brothers in arms. He returned the  
salute and walked towards his gate, and destiny.  
  
  
*********************************  
  
9:00 that evening found Conrad deep within the Pentagon. An unmarked green  
sedan had picked him up at National airport and swiftly carried him to just outside  
of D.C., to Department of Defense headquarters. His I.D. earned him a quick  
bypass of all the Marine guard stations, down into the levels few men of his rank  
ever saw or heard about. He stood now in a small briefing room, directly across  
from Clayton M. Abernathy, a man with whom he had worked with closely in the past   
few years. Their connection was rarely discussed outside of the room in which they  
both stood. Conrad was slightly surprised to see the former Colonel  
Abernathy sporting stars on his shoulder boards. The insignia were barely out of the  
plastic.  
  
Congratulations, sir. You should have told me when you called.  
  
Yes, well, we're all about to move up in the world, Duke, Conrad smiled at  
the way his nickname sounded in the General's gravelly voice. He had been saddled  
with it in Nam by his captain; he had used his golden-gloves power in bar brawl  
while on pass. The captain had been impressed, the name had stuck. His friends  
knew him by it. His mother hated it. His enemies feared it. It was a useful thing.  
  
Life's going to get more difficult for the both of us, Duke. Sit down, General  
Abernathy waved at a nearby chair. He was known around the Pentagon as the   
Hawk. He had incredible insight and intuition, which served him well. Little  
went on that Hawk didn't know about. Conrad respected him more than any superior   
he had ever known; mainly because Hawk listened to his men and acted on their   
advice. Hawk never asked any soldier to do something he wouldn't do himself.  
Most officers had no compunctions against sending their men to die. Hawk was  
different. Conrad sat as General Abernathy dimmed the lights and picked up the  
remote for the slide projector. The carousel turned with a click, and two familiar  
figures lit up the screen. No doubt you recognize these two, Duke. Hell, you took the  
pictures.  
  
Of course sir. The one on the right is Destro. Genteel Scottish nobility by day,  
arms dealer by night. Castro loves him. Pain in the ass to deal with, since he  
develops half his stuff himself, and steals the rest. Currently number one on half the  
world's public enemy lists. The other half think he's a real swell guy.  
  
Anything else, Duke?  
  
He has a mean right hook, and that stupid mask of his broke three of my fingers  
when I tried to pop him one. I think I dented the fucker, though. Conrad cracked  
his knuckles loudly.  
  
Hawk smiled and moved his pointer to the left, And this one?  
  
That nitwit. Came out of nowhere. Has no past. No cultural identity. No family.  
I couldn't even find a grade school report card. The guy didn't exist five years ago.   
Now, he's a real trouble maker. That crazy terrorist cult he heads gets their fingers   
into all the small irritating places. Luckily, he has such a Napoleon complex, he blows  
most of his plans before they come to a head. Likes to be called Commander'. He   
has a flair for the dramatic. Old crumbling castles. Snakes. Hides behind that blasted  
hood. I think I saw some sort of mirrored mask, the last time I was snooping around.  
He and Lord Destro should get together, they both have a kinky mask thing going on.  
  
They have. Hawk fingered the pointer grimly.  
  
  
  
The carousel clicked forward. There stood Destro and the Commander,  
surveying a passing troop of men in uniforms Conrad had never seemed before.  
This shot was taken by our friend Mouse last week. It seems our two friends have  
joined forces, a new slide snapped into place, It gets worse. They've recruited these  
two to help.  
  
The Baroness, black snake of eastern Europe. She's a blast. And I guess   
that's Sebastian Bludd, although I can barely see him under that helmet. Moustache is  
new, too. I guess I scraped out more of his eye than I thought. I hope Mouse didn't  
have to endure his poetry to get that shot.  
  
Mouse is dead, Duke.  
  
It felt like hitting a wall,   
  
He must have known they were on to him, he shipped the film out  
after this shot. It was half used. His body washed up on the shore of the Danube  
last Friday. We still haven't found his head, Hawk put the pointer and the remote  
on the table and slid wearily into the chair across from Conrad., I'm sorry, Duke. I  
know you two were close.   
  
Conrad held back the tears, He was a damn fine soldier, sir. His courage  
was bigger than he was, but he was a good guy, men like Mouse didn't come around  
often. Conrad would miss the little man; fast, cunning, and a real sick sense of humor.  
  
We have a bad situation here, Duke. On their own, those four amounted  
to a little more than a tactical nuisance. Now, they've raised an army. What we have  
on our hands is an international terrorist faction powerful enough to attempt world  
domination. And that Commander is crazy enough to try it.  
  
Conrad tore himself away from grief, What do we intend to do about it, sir?  
  
We've been preparing for this for some time. What you and Mouse have  
been bringing us over the past three years made us wonder what would happen  
if several terrorist factions joined forces, Once again, Hawk's insight had second-  
guessed the opposition, Now that the time is here, we're ready to act. I have been   
empowered by the president and the joint chiefs to put together an elite anti-terrorist  
force to deal with this threat. Hawk pointed to several file boxes piled up at the  
end of the table, Those boxes contain all the files and plans for that force. I call it  
G.I. Joe.  
  
And what exactly, sir, do I have to do with G. I. Joe? Conrad crossed his arms  
over his chest and leaned back.  
  
You're going to lead it, Duke. As of this instant, I'm reassigning you. No more  
special forces schools Duke. No more secret spy missions on the side. I'm putting  
you back on the battlefield, son. You're my field commander.  
  
Conrad stared at Hawk in amazement. When he woke up that morning, he   
hadn't expected anything much to happen. Now this. his voice shook with   
uncertainty.  
  
Of course, this is going to mean a lot of change for you, I understand. There  
is going to be no way to keep G.I. Joe away from the media. For security reasons,  
you and your troops will have to go by code names. No problem there, I haven't  
met a soldier without a handle. From now on, you're Duke'. Actually, Captain  
Duke', since you're promoted, active immediately. Now, we have to go through these  
files. We have here a loose gathering of possibilities, all specialists, but they need  
weeding out-  
  
Conrad interrupted.  
  
Hawk was taken aback, No? What do you mean, no? Son, I won't take   
another. You're the only one who has experience with these people that I trust.  
  
I'll take the assignment, but I won't be an officer. I won't let you promote me.  
  
Whatever can you mean?  
  
They tell me that an officer's job is to impel others to take the risks-so that the   
officer survives to take the blame in the event of a total catastrophe. With all due   
respect sir..if that's what an officer does, I don't want any part of it, in his head,   
Conrad swore he heard Mouse cheering, Soldiers will serve me better if I'm closer to  
them, sir. I refuse to be promoted beyond their reach. I'll be one of them, or nothing.  
  
Hawk looked thoughtful, I can see your point. He rubbed his chin, Very  
well. I can work around this. I'll promote as high as I damn well can, and that's Master  
Sergeant. I'll assign an officer to advise you in the field. I know a few people.  
  
Why not you sir? We've worked well together in the past.  
  
Don't think I wouldn't want to. The Chiefs want me here. Besides, you'll  
need someone in administration at your back. I can cut you more funding from this  
side of the desk. Conrad could tell Hawk was disappointed. He, too, preferred to  
be in the field, So, Duke, do you accept?  
  
Master Sergeant Duke Hauser reached across the table and shook Hawk's   
hand firmly, With pleasure, sir.  
  
Well, Duke, welcome to G.I. Joe. Now let's get to those files. We have a long  
night ahead of us.  
  
  
  
  
  
*******************************************************************************************  
  
Next: Duke goes a gatherin' Joes!  
  
  
  



	4. 4

part 4

Part 4:  
Diana M.  
  


Duke stepped out onto the tarmac at the USAF Fighter Weapons Squadron  
school. It was a clear bright day, and the sun bore down. It heated the asphalt to  
oven like temperatures, and he could feel himself begin to sweat through the shirt  
of his dress greens. Next time Hawk sends me after troops, he thought, it damn  
well better be in November. He stepped over to a yellow-shirt winding up a fuel  
hose.  
  
I'm looking for a Captain Bradley Armbruster, troop. They said he was  
training today. Duke took off his beret and wiped his sweating brow.  
  
You bet, Top. Duke was slightly taken aback; he wasn't yet used to his new  
rank. He resisted the urge to rub the new stripes on his shoulder. The yellow shirt  
pointed up, Captain Armbruster took some guys up a little while ago, but the  
exercise should be over soon.   
  
Duke shielded his eyes and glanced up to see the Aggressors in action. It was   
a rare sight. Few pilots had the skill or tenacity to make it to the school.   
This Armbruster was the senior instructor. That alone spoke volumes about his ability.  
Hawk wanted Armbruster like a dope fiend wanting a hit. But he had warned Duke  
that it might not be easy. Duke resolved to himself not to leave the field without  
Armbruster. The F-16s above finished their exercise and maneuvered for landing.  
Duke straightened his tie and replaced his beret. The F-16's came in one at a time;  
yellow and green shirts hustling to aid the pilots as they parked and jumped out.  
The yellow shirt Duke had been talking to grabbed a pilot by the shoulder and  
pointed in Duke's direction. Whatever he was saying was lost in the din of the jet   
engines. The pilot strode over to where Duke was standing.  
  
I hear you're looking for me, Top, Armbruster tossed his helmet from one  
hand to the other. He was young and confident looking. It had been Duke's  
experience in Nam that all flyboys had tremendous egotistical passions; they all  
loved themselves. Armbruster looked no different.  
  
Yes, Captain, Duke held out the large brown envelope he had taken from  
the top of the pile. It had taken two days for Duke and Hawk to compile them, I have  
here your new orders. Get packed and come with me.  
  
Armbruster frowned as he looked at the envelope in Duke's hand. He  
turned an angry aye to Duke, I don't know about you grunts, but in my outfit, we  
respect an officer. I see no salute. I hear no sir'. And your TELLING me to get packed  
and follow you?  
  
Duke had expected this. He had warned Hawk about it when he noticed  
Armbruster's rank when reading his file. Hawk had smiled knowingly, Whether he  
likes it or not, Duke, he's going to have to follow your orders. Rank be damned.  
In G.I. Joe, you're the man in charge. Regulation-wise, its a mess. Experience wise,  
well, it makes sense. I trust you. You can get Armbruster. Duke sighed to himself.  
He COULD have been Captain. Had he accepted the promotion, he COULD have  
gotten Armbruster's ass in gear quick. Then again, Duke didn't need to be an officer  
to get a man to do what he wanted. A good sergeant knows how to control people.  
  
Duke removed his sunglasses and glared down at Armbruster. He had a good  
two inches on the man. He was quite a bit bulkier, too. Pilots ran on the slim  
side, which made for an easier fit in those computer crammed jets, Listen, kid. I  
don't care what you think you do in your candy-ass high in the sky outfit. You have  
new orders. I'm giving you your new orders. You WILL follow your new orders, and  
that means you'll pack your miserable shit and come with me off base. And if you  
don't, you'd damn well better HOPE your little officer tantrum will get you through  
when the PENTAGON comes down on your ass. Then, you might want to PRAY  
you don't run into me later when I'm off duty and in a bad mood. I'm respecting  
you being an officer right now by not ripping out your idiot tongue and strangling  
you with it.  
  
Armbruster's mouth hung open in  
shock. Several trainees gathered around and watched the dressing down in   
amazement. No one had ever seen a sergeant bust a captain before, Shut your fool   
trap, boy. The flies will get in. Duke reached over and shoved the envelope down  
the front of Armbruster's flight suit. He turned crisply on his heel and walked off the  
tarmac.  
  
Duke was sitting in an empty recreation room sipping a club soda half an  
hour later. He heard the door softly open as Armbruster came in. Duke didn't  
bother getting up. Armbruster slowly sank down in an armchair across form  
Duke. He had changed into khakis. He held the envelope, now ripped open, and  
stared with amazement at Duke, You've got to be kidding me.  
  
I don't kid, Captain, Duke set his soda down and leaned forward, Its all  
going down. We needed a top pilot. You're the best we could find.  
  
And these new jets. I'd get to fly these? Armbruster waved the spec sheet  
at Duke.  
  
The skystrikers aren't even finished yet. Kid, you'll be testing them. Course,  
you'll have to share em with your team mates, Duke had figured including a spec  
of the all new, state of the art jets would work as bait.   
  
Who are?  
  
You'll meet them soon. You're my first. They want you testing jets by   
tomorrow.  
How soon can we leave?  
  
Duke smiled as he picked up his glass and took a slow sip, That depends  
upon how fast you can pack, Captain Armbruster.  
  
Armbruster returned Duke's smile, It's Ace, Top, and I put my bags in your  
jeep fifteen minutes ago.  
  
Duke laughed and stood up, Call me Duke, or I WILL kick your ass.  
  
  
************************************************************  
  
Duke had left Ace at the new base, happily testing the fighters. Already, he  
had noticed a few bugs that needed attention. Duke was satisfied with the man.  
He was a skilled pilot, a throught test-pilot, and a damn good poker player. Duke  
made a mental note to schedule another game and win his fifty bucks back.  
  
Duke braced himself as the jeep bounced over another rut. The dirt  
road that wound through the Sierras was rough, to say the least. He'd been on it  
a few hours, but his rear felt more like it had been days. Jeeps weren't built for  
comfort. Luckily, he was almost there.  
  
The road twisted into the trees and snaked through a small canyon. Duke  
brought the jeep to a stop as he came to a small log cabin in clearing. He shut off  
the engine and slid out, brushing dust from his uniform. He walked towards the  
cabin, but new it was empty by the time he had reached the front door. He  
turned around and with his eyes, searched the clearing for signs of life.  
  
Come on, Snake Eyes. You knew I was coming since my jeep hit that  
there dirt road. Don't make me think you've turned inhospitable since the last  
time I saw you,  
  
A dark shape dropped from the trees and walked towards Duke. He wore  
full cammo gear, and had a large shotgun slung over his shoulder. Duke noticed what  
looked like a katana slung over his back. Good Ol' Snake Eyes. Armed to the teeth.  
  
They shook hands and slapped each other on the back. Snake Eyes opened  
the door to his cabin and they both went inside. Inside it was warm and dusky. The  
sunlight filtered weakly through the few windows, and it was too early for a lantern.  
Being so far away from the nearest city meant conserving every drop of fuel. Duke  
figured Snake Eyes lived mostly by the light of the sun, and the roughly hearthed  
fireplace that also served as oven and heater.  
  
Snake Eyes hung the shotgun and sword on pegs on the wall. Those and a  
Japanese scroll were the only decoration. Duke examined the scroll closely, but  
his studies in written Japanese weren't advanced enough to translate. I'd heard   
you'd gone to Japan, Snakes. Must've been a kick, Duke turned around to see   
Snake Eyes sitting in a roughly hewn chair, I guess you pretty much figure why I'm  
here. It wasn't easy. You pretty much disappeared after you came back from the land  
of the rising sun. It took a bit, but I found you, Snake Eyes.  
  
Snake Eyes indicated for Duke to sit on the bunk across the room. It too, was   
put together from wooden poles and rope. Green army-issue blankets covered the  
rough mattress. From the smell, Duke figured it had been stuffed with hay, You're  
living rough these days, Snakes. Snake Eyes eyed him quietly, waiting. Duke  
pulled out the orders and tossed it to him, How bout coming back to society for a   
while?  
  
Snake Eyes opened the envelope and scanned his orders quickly. When he  
was finished, he refolded them neatly and slid them back into the envelope. He  
looked questioningly at Duke.  
  
No, Snakes, you weren't on the original roster. I put you on, Duke pointed  
at the envelope in Snake Eyes' hand, I still remember some of the amazing shit you  
did in Nam. I knew this was the assignment for you. It was insane tracking you down.  
Lucky you still pick up your vet checks. Snake Eyes turned his gaze through a   
window to the forest outside. Duke got up to stand behind him, I heard about your  
family, man. I'm sorry. I know how you feel. It was rough losing my dad. I can't   
imagine losing everyone.  
  
Snake Eyes drummed his fingers on the arm of his chair, lost in thought. Duke  
leaned against the exposed log wall and watched him. Snake Eyes was a complex  
man. Way back in Nam, he was hard to figure out. Now, after coming back to  
find his parents and twin mowed down by a drunk driver with a death wish, after   
disappearing to Japan and leaving all trace of himself to flutter in the winds of  
uncertainty; what kind of man was he? Duke remembered an honest, friendly man.  
Easy to like and trust. Nam was enough to twist a man. Snake Eyes had been   
through the unimaginable, twice or more. Duke hoped there was enough sanity left  
to work with.  
  
Snake eyes tossed the envelope on his bed, leaned back in his chair, closed  
his eyes, and sighed. Duke cleared his throat, Listen, I hate to call in a favor, but I   
need you on this team. I pulled you out of that stinking tiger cage. I hauled  
you half dead across a rice paddy or two. I'm hoping that if I G.I. Joe gets into trouble,  
you'll be there to do the same for me.  
  
Snake Eyes spoke without raising an eyelid, when I heard that stinking  
old jeep groaning up my road, and saw it was you, I knew come tomorrow, this cabin  
would be deserted.  
  
Duke smiled and clasped Snake Eyes' shoulder. He was as poetic as ever.  
*******************************************  
  
Well, Duke, How did it go? Hawk looked up from a stack of paperwork as   
Duke stepped into his office.  
  
No major problems, sir. Ace tried to pull rank, as I expected, but he crumbled  
pretty quick. Two things all solders are afraid of. Their mamas and their drill   
sergeants. No way I could match his mama, but I do the drill sergeant pretty well.  
  
Hawk chuckled, I'll bet you do, he waved towards a chair, have a seat.  
  
Duke slipped easily into the chair and relaxed, Thank you sir. Its been a  
rough couple of days.  
  
I'm still unsure about this Snake Eyes, Duke. From what his file says,  
he's a stack of dynamite ready to blow. Are you sure we need that kind of  
liability?  
  
Snake eyes is one of the best, sir. I understand your concerns. And I admit;  
he's dangerous. Who knows what's going on in his head? But I doubt he'll  
go off. He's more like a naked knife in a dark drawer. You don't want to bump into   
him while you're feeling around, that's all.  
  
What about this blank spot? You say he was in Japan?  
  
Yes sir. It seems he's been studying martial arts from the masters. Picked  
up a truckload of new hand-to-hand skills. I sparred with him when we got back to  
the new headquarters, Duke rubbed his arm as he remembered, I don't think I'll  
do that again for a while. He's faster then I recall.  
  
So you think he's a benefit.  
  
Without doubt, sir. If we can harness all that energy and aggression he's  
been building up, we'll have one Hell of a commando.  
  
Very well, Duke, I trust your judgment. Who are you going for next?  
  
Freidstadt and Gambello. Should be a milk run. Might even have time to  
get Graves.  
  
Excellent. Carry on, troop.  
  
  
  



	5. 5

part 5

Part 5  
Diana M.  
  
  


Duke hated Chicago. He loathed it. He'd visited there as a child once, on a  
vacation to Lake Michigan. It was his mother and Jack's honeymoon, actually, and   
they'd brought him along. Looking back now, he wondered who would ever want to  
go to lake Michigan for a honeymoon, toting along a nine year old, at that. It had been  
a nice cabin by the lake, but Duke had spent his entire time pouting. It must have been  
his foul mood then which had turned him against Chicago. Truthfully, they'd only  
spent one night in the city itself. But it was the first night after the wedding, and Duke   
had been pawned off on a family friend and dragged to a fun center'. It was   
miserable; Duke endured the entirety of the evening knowing exactly what his mother   
and new stepfather were doing. It made him uncomfortable, and the hot, loud, and   
strange smelling streets of the unfamiliar city had frightened him.  
  
Even now, driving through the streets in full daylight, he felt a tinge of disgust.  
It was a hot, humid day. The air conditioning in his rented sedan wasn't working.  
He wanted a beer and a quick nap. Instead, he had to drive to Eric Freistadt's  
home and yank him away from what was probably some well-earned leave time.  
To top it off, Hawk wanted him to drive to Peoria and grab Krieger before heading back  
to base. In truth, he agreed with Hawk; it was too convenient not to pick them both  
up in one swoop. Yet, Peoria seemed too close to St. Louis for Duke not to feel the   
pull of home. The idea of calling Freistadt away from leave reminded Duke too much   
of his own premature departure from the comforts of home.  
  
On top of all that, Duke had to admit to himself that he was planning on getting   
both Krieger and O'Hara last. He'd known women in the service, but the idea of living  
in close quarters and fighting alongside them unnerved him. He had hoped for more  
time to adjust to the idea. He was reasonably certain of their abilities, but still...  
  
He nearly missed Elm street, but managed to pull himself away from his   
musings to catch the turn in time. Duke found the address he was looking for. It  
was a large two story house; the type most families dream of owning but can't afford.  
It was well kept up; neat yard, clean paint. Duke stopped the engine and grabbed  
Freistadt's orders, tucking them into his pocket as he climbed out. Walking up to the  
front porch, he could see the only thing truly wrong with the house was its close  
proximity to the El. He doubted he could stand the intermittent rumble of the passing  
trains. God, he hated Chicago.  
  
Duke stepped up to the front door and rung the bell. Any sound of movement   
inside was drowned out by a train, clattering and growling up on the tracks. Duke  
turned distractedly to watch the cars rush by. The door opened with a creak, and Duke  
turned again and found himself facing a bent old woman. She smiled up at him  
with a wrinkled, but cherubic face.  
  
Can I help you son? Her voice was warm and encouraging.  
  
Duke took of his sunglasses and hung them from a breast pocket, Yes ma'am,  
I'd appreciate it. I'm here to see Eric Freistadt.  
  
Of course you are. I should have realized right away. Come in while I get   
him for you, she led him inside and pointed at a comfortable looking overstuffed  
couch, Eric is out back barbecuing with his father and friends. Have a seat and I'll get   
him for you, it was more of an order than a request. Duke sat. The old woman   
toddled towards the back of the house and stopped at the door, I'll get you a   
lemonade. Its hot out. I'm sure you'd rather have a beer, but I'm guessing you're on   
duty. She was out the door before Duke could thank her.  
  
The room was as neat and tidy as the yard had been. Window sills held  
whirring fans by open windows; the house was too old for air conditioning. Duke  
saw a number of military portraits hanging on the wall. The Freistadt's were a   
career family. Eric was descended from a father and grandfather who had served  
as Top Sergeants. That was a plus. Duke doubted he would have gotten as far as  
he did if Jack had not been in special forces.  
  
Duke heard a screen door clatter. A few seconds later a young blond man  
stepped into the room. He reached up and adjusted his glasses. Duke stood and  
was about to speak, but was cut off when the old lady bustled up and pushed a cold  
glass of lemonade into his hand. She stayed put in front of him, smiling in an eager,  
expectant way. Duke took a small sip. It was tart, but refreshing.  
  
Delicious, ma'am, thank you. The old woman's smile widened and she  
happily left the room. She nearly bumped into someone on the way out. Duke  
saw that it was an older version of the bespectacled man in front of him; same face,  
same glasses, but with thinning, silver hair.  
  
My grandmother said you wanted to see me, The young man set his  
beer can down on a coffee table laden with neatly stacked magazines.  
  
I'm afraid you'll have to cut your vacation short, Duke held out the envelope,  
I have here your new orders. Freistadt took the envelope and ripped it open.  
He sat down to scan the papers, and the older man stepped forward and shook Duke's  
hand. It was a firm grip, intended to impress.  
  
Jake Freistadt. I served as a first shirt myself, you know, He continued to  
shake Duke's hand. Duke smiled at the man, noticing that he, like his own stepfather,  
still had the straight stance of a soldier. Old habits die hard. Freistadt senior finally  
released Duke's hand, I would say the top is the most important man in the field. You  
got your ranking officers to bark out orders. What the Hell, most of them have no damn  
clue how to run men properly. Half of em are straight out of the academies. Now your  
first sergeant, he's seen a few. He knows what his men are feeling, and how to  
pull or push em through it. Dammit, he's the only one who cares.  
  
Please, pop. Eric had finished reading his orders and held the envelope in  
his right hand. He looked over at Duke, It says effective immediately'. Does that   
mean we leave soon?  
  
Inside, Duke cringed. He hated taking a man away from family, It means  
we leave right now, soldier. I have a schedule to keep, and you're not my only pick-  
up this trip. Freistadt senior frowned. Duke finished his lemonade and toyed with  
the empty glass, The sooner you pack, the quicker I can get to Peoria and grab your  
new team mate. and the quicker I can get out of this damn town, Duke thought to   
himself. Outside, another El rumbled by. For what seemed like an eternity, both  
Freistadts stood in quiet surprise.  
  
The older man broke the silence, You'd better get to packing, son. Your  
country's calling you. I'll go let everyone know you're going, Eric Freistadt left without  
a word. Duke heard him jog up a flight of stairs. The father turned to Duke, I imagine  
something so desperate is some sort of combat. I was in Korea and the Nam, but my  
boy's never seen a real battlefield. Duke nodded. Freistadt's skills would cover   
where experience was lacking. I can see by your fruit salad that you served in Nam   
yourself. Makes me thankful. An experienced first shirt will take care of my boy,  
he rested his hand on Duke's shoulder, Make sure Eric comes back to us. I know its  
a lot to ask, but my son's all me and the wife have, really.  
  
Sir, I promise I'll look after your son. I never leave men behind. No matter  
what. We all come home. Duke looked directly into his eyes.  
  
Jake Freistadt sighed deeply and turned to go out back, I guess I'd better tell  
his mother. She'll make a fuss, you can bet, He slowly headed towards the back   
door, but looked over his shoulder as he left the room, Don't call me sir.  
  
Duke smiled to himself. Yessir, old habits die hard.  
  
*********************************************  
  
Duke and Short Fuze got out of the car and looked up at the tall apartment   
building. It had taken only three hours to drive to Peoria. Still, Duke was feeling a little  
fatigued. Chicago had taken a bit more out of him then he would like to admit. Home   
was too close. He felt the pull of home cooked meals and a cozy afternoon nap in the  
sweet smelling hay of the barn.  
  
Come on, he indicated for Short Fuze to follow him up to Krieger's fourth floor  
apartment, We'd better get her quick and head back to base. I have a whole mess  
of dogfaces to collect, and little time to do it.  
  
Well, let's go then, Top, Short Fuze had been very pleased at the idea of a   
female team mate. Duke regretted having let slip on the ride over that she had worked  
in the modeling industry. Short Fuze grinned broadly as he repeatedly punched the   
elevator button, Cover Girl, here we come! Duke right then decided to keep his   
mouth shut on all future road trips. The flowing hormones were palpable.  
  
Duke sighed and stepped into the elevator. He pressed the fourth floor button  
gingerly, and stood cracking his knuckles as the elevator slowly rose. It was a fairly  
nice building. Duke doubted he could afford the type of luxury Krieger had been able   
to provide her parents with. The elevator alone was a plush job, thick carpeting and  
fancy etched mirrors. He wondered what had disillusioned Krieger about the  
modeling industry. It certainly couldn't have been the pay.  
  
The elevator binged' demurely as they reached the fourth floor. The doors  
slid open to reveal a long, posh hallway, broken every now and again by large,  
secure looking doors. The rich enjoyed safety and privacy. Duke doubted that the  
people on this hallway could name their next-door neighbors.  
  
What number is it? Short Fuze hurried out and down the hallway, eagerly   
the bronze numbers screwed on the highly lacquered doors.  
  
Duke took a step out of the elevator and looked around to get his  
bearings. Pathetic, the way some deprived troops acted around women. The  
apartment was only a few doors to the right of the elevator. Short Fuze had already found it, and stood by the bell, nervously bouncing from one foot to the next. Relax, Short Fuze. Remember, she's your team mate. You'll fight alongside her, not to get her. Duke caught himself checking his hair in Short Fuze's sunglasses. Damn. He reached over to ring the bell.  
  
The door swung open to reveal a petite, fiftyish woman in a purple velvet  
jumpsuit. She was attractive, in a spendthrifty, motherly sort of way. Her hair  
was something to behold; masses of auburn piled in an artistic wavy fashion that  
Duke supposed was meant to be seen as windblown'. It must have taken hours to  
construct. Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in Duke and Short Fuze.  
  
You must be looking for Courtney. Sorry, boys, you just missed her. She went  
to see her friend walk in a show, she reached over to snatch a small invitation from  
a small table by the door, Here you are. Its a benefit, She smiled in the sad frowny  
face often used by the rich to express pity for creatures in a lower tax bracket, for   
autistic children, she handed the invitation to Duke, in Chicago, she smiled  
toothily, you'll find her there. She shut the door in their faces.   
  
Duke slapped his forehead and swore.  
  
Two and a half hours later, Duke and Short Fuze handed the keys of the rented   
sedan to a bored looking valet and stepped through the doors of the Biltmore Hotel. It  
had been a quick and quiet ride back. Short Fuze had stared out the road while Duke  
grimly set out once again for hated Chicago. He'd been so angry, he'd shaved  
a half hour of their travel time.   
  
They showed the invitation to a desk clerk, and were lead through a richly  
decorated lobby to the ballroom. An attendant by the door handed them a program,   
Designers Battle Autism! the cover screamed in elegant lettering. Duke snorted.  
It all seemed somewhat ludicrous.  
  
Short Fuze looked around the room at all the gowns and tuxedos, I feel sort of  
out of place in my greens, Duke.  
  
You're not alone, kid, Duke wondered how many of these people had  
ever worked for a living.  
  
May I help you gentlemen? an elderly, overly made up woman in a noisy  
satin gown approached them, hands clasped expertly. Duke figured people who  
held their own hands had nothing better to do with them.  
  
Yes, ma'am, Duke removed his beret and slid it under an epaulet, I'm  
looking for Courtney Krieger.  
  
Of course! I should have known! The woman smiled broadly and took Duke  
by the hand. Her skin felt like tissue paper. Let me take you to her. Duke barely  
had time to protest before he was towed across the ballroom to a small bar. Short   
Fuze followed without a word.  
  
Courtney, darling! A tall, slim woman with flowing blonde locks turned  
from a bourgeois-looking group to face them. Duke's elderly guide stopped in  
front of her, Look what I've found! Two of your army friends, looking lost and  
forlorn! I've brought them to you!  
  
Krieger looked somewhat shocked. Duke noted happily that she snapped  
to attention on seeing who they were, Melissa, how nice, but I don't-  
  
Now now, darling, don't leave them to an old bat like me! Duke swore  
he saw several layers of eye shadow flake off when she laughed, Offer them a drink!  
I'm sure they're parched! Bartender, two champagnes!  
  
Duke cleared his throat, Ma'am, I'm sorry but we're on du-  
  
Honestly, Courtney, when you quit the agency to join up, I thought you  
were out of your mind. But looking at these two, I can see why you did! She winked  
at Duke. He felt his cheeks grow warm. Well, darlings, I must go! The show's about  
to start, and I have fifteen girls to whip into order. As you were!' ahahahahaha!  
All three of them watched in awe as she noisily swept back across the ballroom.  
  
Is she for real? Short Fuze grinned.  
  
In the modeling world, there's no such word as real, Krieger set down her  
glass, Sorry, Top. She's a crazy old bitch.  
  
Forget about it. Duke smiled. He liked Krieger already, Your new  
orders, he handed her the now-familiar envelope.  
  
Krieger used a fingernail to slice open the envelope. She slid out her orders  
and scanned them quickly, You mean NOW?  
  
I'm afraid so. You both have to leave on the next flight back to base.   
Someone will pick you up at the airport. I have to head to Fort Ord for another  
pick up.  
  
Thank God. I thought I'd have to suffer through this mess for the sake of  
friendship, Krieger looked relieved, now I have an excuse. Orders come before   
anything.  
  
Short Fuze laughed.  
  
Let me just say goodbye to my friend, and we'll go back to her apartment for  
my stuff, she looked down at her elegant gown, I can't wait to get out of this thing.  
  
You don't need to go home to get things?  
  
Nah. I already said goodbye. Besides, there's nothing for me there.  
  
  
**********************************  
  
It was 3:15 in the afternoon, and Duke was exhausted. He'd taken a shuttle the   
night before from Chicago to Watsonville, California, and hadn't managed to  
sleep a wink. As he drove south to Fort Ord, Duke pondered just how much coffee  
he could down without negative consequences. Still, he had to admit it was a nice   
drive. This time, the air conditioning in his rental car had worked. He could enjoy the  
cheerful California sunshine without suffering in its heat. Looking out at the velvety  
brown rolling hills, he could see why Gambello had fought for an assignment close to   
home. Lodi was only a few hours north east of Ord, and Gambello could easily  
take a warm weekend pass at home.  
  
Duke saw Ord up ahead. He pulled off the one and drove to the gate. He had  
no trouble getting past the guard on duty. Hawk had seen to it that Duke had the  
clearance to pretty much go where he pleased. It could come in incredibly handy  
in the future. He parked at the barracks, and went in search of Gambello, secure in  
the knowledge that no base commander would get in his way.  
  
He found Gambello easily enough. He was in his quarters, working on what  
looked to be a circuit board. He looked up as Duke approached his bunk.  
  
Don't bother getting up, troop. Just get an eyeful of your new orders and  
get packed, Duke dropped Gambello's orders on the bunk in front of him.  
The trooper put his soldering iron back in its stand and ripped open the envelope.  
Duke yawned. Gambello looked glum.  
  
What's the matter, troop? Don't like your new assignment?  
  
No, Top, that's no problem. Sounds like blast. It's that I just paid tuition  
at State. I even had class tonight.  
  
Sorry, kid, you'll have to get your money back.  
  
I can't, Gambello looked sadly at the board he had been working on, They  
don't give refunds.  
  
Duke wondered how much Gambello had paid. Night school could get  
expensive. He'd read that Gambello was going for his Master's. No time to  
mope, I've got to get you back, and go to bed, Duke thought to himself.  
  
Oh, well, Gambello tossed the board into a nearby trash can, It was a boring  
class, anyhow.  
  
  
**************************  
  
Did you manage to catch up on sleep, Duke? Hawk smile across his desk.  
  
Yes, sir, I hit the sack when I got back from California. That and a few  
pots of coffee fixed me right up.  
  
How are the boys handling Krieger? Hawk raised an eyebrow knowingly.  
  
They gave her a hard time till they saw her take apart that wolverine and  
put it back together. Something about a greasy woman playing with gears and  
hydraulics that shuts a man up.  
  
So you think the mix will be okay?  
  
Duke helped himself to some of the General's mints, Yeah, should be  
all right. Cover Girl's practically one of the boys. We'll see how Miss. O'Hara  
can handle herself later.  
  
Hawk gestured to the shrinking stack of envelopes, You're going for  
O'Hara next?  
  
No, sir. Next is Graves and Steinberg.  
  
Now why didn't you get Graves this time?  
  
I would have, if I hadn't gone back and forth from Peoria to Chicago, Duke  
vowed never to set foot back in Chicago again, I'll have to get him this time out.  
  
Very well, Duke.  
  
  
  
  



	6. 6

part 6

Part 6  
Diana M.  
  
  


It was dark by the time Duke's plane landed in El Paso. His flight had been   
delayed three hours, and he hadn't had a bite to eat since the doughnut he'd washed  
down with coffee that morning. As he stood to pull his overnight bag from the   
overhead compartment, Duke heard his stomach snarl angrily. An elderly woman  
who had sat next to him looked appalled. Duke grinned sheepishly.  
  
I guess I need supper, ma'am. Airplane peanuts just aren't enough.  
She huffed at him and reached up to haul an enormous suitcase out of the  
compartment. It missed Duke's head by inches and hit the floor with a heavy  
thud. The woman then proceeded to drag it slowly up the aisle, to the consternation  
of the passengers waiting in line behind her to deplane. The growling of Duke's   
stomach was drowned out by bitter grumbles:  
  
Ol biddy, it don't matter if they's drivin' or walkin', I can't never get out  
from behind   
  
It figures, when I'm in a hurry..  
  
What's she got there?  
  
Lord knows, maybe her old man's stuffed inside.  
  
Duke sighed to himself and tapped the woman on the shoulder, Ma'am?  
Allow me. She glared at him, but Duke grabbed her bag before she had time  
to collect herself for what promised to be a withering negative reply. Duke hefted  
the suitcase up the aisle and into the terminal, much to the relief of the people  
behind. Once there, he grabbed a passing attendant and handed the bag over.  
The young man nearly doubled under its weight, Help this lady to her car, son, Duke  
pointed to the woman who was now stalking towards them; laser-sharp glare clearing  
a path through the crowd. She stopped and glowered up at Duke.  
  
I never! I imagine you're expecting some sort of monetary compensation,  
young man. Well, you aren't getting one! And neither is he! She pointed to  
the attendant, who seemed to shrink inside himself. she snarled and hobbled  
towards an exit, Don't stand there, pup, get me a taxi! I'll fall over dead before I  
find any decent service in this Hell hole. The attendant half dragged the suitcase after  
its owner, glancing back miserably at Duke, whose stomach announced its own pain.  
  
Heh heh. Don't expect any sugar out of those Texas grandmas. They're  
all full of piss and vinegar, Duke found himself standing next to a man in dress   
greens and a wide brimmed cavalry hat. Although it they were inside, and it was  
well past sunset, he looked at Duke through mirrored sunglasses. He chuckled  
again, You're mighty late, Top. I reckon its a mistake to take civilian flights for   
government business.  
  
Duke smiled and ran his fingers through his hair. He had an innate affection  
for the air cavalry. The crazy bastards had pulled a lot of men out of sticky situations  
back in Nam. He owed his life to quite a few of them himself. But easier when you're  
trying to keep that business quiet. You must be Hardy, Duke held out a hand. Hardy  
took off his glasses and regarded Duke's hand with interest.  
  
Ain't you gonna salute an officer? Hardy pointed to his CW-4 sigil.  
  
Duke kept his hand out, and hardened his smile into something slightly  
sinister, Hardy, I'm not just top kick of the outfit, I'm in charge. I've played this   
particular game longer than you knew about its existence. You're going to be flying us  
in and out of some of the weirdest, scariest, most dangerous shit you've ever come   
across. Makes the Nam look like Kinder Care. I've lived it already. There's only one   
other man with my experience, and they haven't found all the pieces of him yet.   
Hardy's eyes widened, and his mustache twitched in surprise. Duke went on, keeping  
his voice low, Now you can either forget the warrant officer crap and do what I tell  
you, or give me your mommy's address now; because any man who doesn't  
fall in line and keep my discipline will end up going home in a pine box with a  
flag over it. You got me?  
  
Hardy's look of surprise slowly broadened into a grin. He laughed and shook   
Duke's hand, pounding him on the back, Pardner, you're everything I heard you were  
and more! You can count me in. I was getting hang-dog and needin' some excitement  
right about when them new orders got specially delivered to me. That troubled Duke.  
In the interest of time, Hawk had started couriering orders to a few of the more   
specialized soldiers. It was faster than getting everyone in person, but more of a   
security risk. Hardy read Duke's worry, I made sure I kept it to myself, though, Top.  
No sense spreading trouble. Took a weekend pass just to pick you up. People  
back at base think I'm playin' it up in town.  
  
I still have to get Graves and Steinberg, two others stationed here, Duke  
hadn't been able to figure out exactly what the infantrymen were doing at Bliss.   
Although there was a light infantry stationed there, specialists of their caliber seemed  
out of place. Duke's thoughts were stopped by another loud growl of the  
stomach. Hardy smiled.  
  
Bear to the core, ain't you?  
  
Hungry as one, anyhow. I haven't eaten since this morning.  
  
Well, since you're late, I don't figure you're in too much of a hurry. How's this?  
We get some grub in town, and you can round those boys up in the morning. Hardy  
started leading the way out of the terminal, I'll take you to the best steak house in   
town, and you can stuff yourself full of grade A Texas beef.  
  
At the mention of food, Duke's stomach rumbled again. He looked at his  
watch and sighed. Graves and Steinberg would have to wait, Sounds good to me,  
Hardy. They'd better have good beer, though. I'm ready to bend a few rules and  
sneak a glass or two.  
  
Pardner, they have the best beer you ever tasted. Import a whole ton  
of stuff from all over. But you'd better start calling me Wild Bill, else we can  
just mosey back to Bliss. They crossed the bridge over the drop off area and  
headed for the parking garage.  
  
Wild Bill, eh? Will plain Bill suit you just as well?  
  
Top, Bill is even better.  
  
Duke's stomach roared, It's Duke, Bill, and you'd better get me to that   
steak house before my stomach decides to find its own way there. Wild Bill  
laughed and stopped in front of a dusty jeep. They were soon on their way to   
downtown El Paso.  
  
  
****************  
  
Duke was feeling somewhat better. He had devoured a salad with a speed  
that made Hardy chuckle. There was a surprisingly good selection of beer, and a  
large steak would soon be making its way out to him. Duke polished off another roll  
and burped contentedly. Excuse me, he muttered, more for the benefit of the  
couples and families around him than for Wild Bill, who had already announced his   
pleasure with the beer in a symphony of belches. Duke began to relax. Bill was  
an interesting companion, and knew a slew of stories the likes of which he hadn't  
heard since his unit had entertained the tribesmen in Nam. He could even bring  
himself to ignore the rowdy noise from the bar, which clearly annoyed most of the  
patrons around them.  
  
Bill smiled at a passing waitress, Darlin', we'll be needing a couple more  
beers with our steaks.   
  
She smiled at Bill in a long suffering sort of way, I'll get them as quick as I can.  
We got another group of soldier boys and some bikers raising Hell in there.  
  
Duke took another pull at his beer and smiled encouragingly, They ain't  
raised Hell yet, ma'am. Its probably safe for you to get a few brews out here to us. If  
you can get it, I want to try that Belgian one. The waitress patted Duke on the  
shoulder and went to try and rescue beer from the rising din in the bar.  
  
Bill mused to himself, Now I've known some interesting bikers. Do  
you know any gentlemen of the motorcycle mentality? He raised an eyebrow and  
downed the last swig.  
  
The waitress put a plate in front of Duke. At least, he assumed there was  
a plate holding up the large slab of meat in front of him. A similar slab found its way  
to Bill's place mat. The waitress went back to get their beers and Bill took up knife and  
fork and dug in. Duke slathered horseradish on half of his steak, and waved his knife  
at Bill, Actually, yeah. Have a soft tail Harley myself, as a matter  
of fact.  
  
Bill swallowed a chunk of meat and grinned, Impresses the ladies, don't it?  
  
A loud crash came from the bar, followed by loud guffaws. It was getting  
loud in there. Duke turned back to Bill and shrugged, Doesn't impress them as  
often as I'd like, come to think of it. Leave it at my mother's place when I'm not on   
leave. I'm not on leave most of the time.  
  
Don't get enough action on them weekend passes, huh? Bill paused  
with a dripping chunk of steak hovering on his fork, halfway between plate and  
mouth, If you don't mind me asking.  
  
Oh, I get enough of that, The waitress plunked two open   
bottles in front of them and rushed back to help at the bar. Duke took a mouthful and  
swished it appreciatively around his mouth before swallowing. Bill waited, still  
lofting his piece of steak, hey, this is all right. Duke took another mouthful and went  
on, Like I said, I get enough action. Just lately, it doesn't seem enough. I dunno. I  
kind of feel like I want something else. Something more. Duke took a bite of steak  
and washed it sown with a mouthful of beer, It can get pretty lonely, doing the   
sneaky stuff I've been doing on the sly lately. Hell, it gets lonely on base.  
  
Bill nodded slowly, So you're getting ready to settle down, huh?  
  
Duke laughed, I never said that. Wouldn't be doing this if I wanted to settle.  
I don't know. Haven't really figured it all out yet. I'm just looking for...well  
something. Don't quite know what yet.  
  
Bill had nearly finished half of his steak, You'll know when you find it, I  
reckon.  
  
Duke shrugged, I won't hold my breath. Speaking of bikers Duke  
nodded towards a large man draped in leather, striding quickly through the restaurant  
and into the bar. The noise level increased tenfold, followed by a new round of   
crashes. The waitress ran out, wild eyed, and came over to their table.  
  
You boys have got to help me. Some crazy soldier's got himself into trouble,  
and those maniacs are ripping the whole place apart.  
  
Bill wiped his lips and threw his napkin at the table, glancing at Duke. Duke  
looked down at his barely started dinner, What do you mean, got himself into  
trouble'?  
  
Some Bliss boy decided to link up with Jimmy's girl Irma. Now  
Irma, she's not really the picky type, else she wouldn't go with Jimmy in the  
first place. She likes to share with everyone, if you get my drift. Jimmy, on the other  
hand, don't like sharin' at all, especially when it comes to Irma. I guess someone  
called Jimmy and let him know, now he's tossing bottles around and ready to  
rip that soldier boy and his friend new ones.  
  
Sounds like they're standing up for themselves. Bill shouted to be heard  
over the cacophony of crashes.  
  
Not as well as you'd think. Sides, Jimmy's the best brawler this side of San  
Angelo.   
  
Oh really?, Bill looked up in surprise to see Duke shrugging out of his  
dress jacket, Joining me Bill?  
  
Pard, are you out of your mind? Come to town on an errand and get into  
trouble the first night?  
  
I'm not getting into trouble, Bill, I'm stopping it. You'll find I have a lot of  
freedom when it comes to getting dogfaces out of trouble. Duke slid off his army  
ring and dropped it in a pocket, Its sort of a hobby of mine, you could say, Duke  
cracked the knuckles of both hands and grinned evilly, I like a good fight.  
  
Damn straight, pard, Bill took off his hat and glasses, You keep any  
police or MP's off my back. Don't mind if I join you, don't mind at all.  
  
The waitress looked perturbed, Boys, that isn't exactly what I had in mind.  
  
Duke swaggered into the bar, Ma'am, don't worry. These things don't take  
long, inside, he saw two soldiers dodging flying bottles and several grabs from the  
rather large biker who had walked through the restaurant a few minutes before. Bill   
came to stand next to Duke while he took in the situation. You sounded mighty  
sure of yourself back there, pard. Hope you can back all that up.  
  
Duke focused his attention on evaluating the room. There  
were a handful of bikers in the bar, but only Jimmy seemed to be taking any sort of   
real action. The others stood along one wall behind him, shouting encouragement  
and tossing a bottle or two. They all looked utterly plastered, which would make them  
sloppy and easy to take care of. On the other hand, the two soldiers were either   
similarly bombed, or just stupid; otherwise they wouldn't have gotten into such a  
situation to begin with. They wouldn't be much help. The bartender had fled, probably  
to call the police, which meant Duke had to be fast in whatever he did. And then  
there was Jimmy. He was a big man, to be sure, but he carried himself like an   
amateur. Furthermore, he looked drunk or stoned, or both. Duke knew very few bikers  
who spent their evenings sober. Duke assumed Jimmy won most of his fights with  
a combination of bulk and sheer intimidation.   
  
So.   
  
The most direct approach would  
probably be the best. Duke took less than three seconds to come to this conclusion.   
He turned to Bill, Get ready to move those boys out of here fast, he started out to  
confront Jimmy.  
  
Bill sputtered, But what, what're you going to- Duke cut him off with a   
dismissive wave of his hand and called over his shoulder.  
  
No time for questions, Bill, get ready.  
  
Wild Bill shrugged, Whatever, pard, he started edging towards the two   
soldiers, one of which was berating the other.  
  
I swear Clutch, I don't know why I go anywhere with you. How the fuck do  
you get us in these messes?  
  
Shut up, Grunt, I've got other things on my-who the hell? He dodged a bottle  
and watched in awe as Duke calmly walked over and tapped Jimmy on the shoulder.  
  
Jimmy turned and regarded Duke with an even, menacing gaze. Although  
he looked large from afar, Duke found the man was actually an inch or so shorter.  
Duke smiled at him, You Jimmy?  
  
  
  
You going after those soldiers there? Duke pointed over Jimmy's shoulder  
at the two men who were now huddled behind an overturned table. Jimmy spat  
tobacco over his shoulder at them.  
  
Yeah. What's it to ya?  
  
It bothers me, Jimmy, The bikers along the wall were quiet, but made no move  
towards them.  
  
  
  
I don't like to be bothered, Jimmy.  
  
  
  
Duke smiled. The strike was so fast, Jimmy had no time to prepare for it, let  
alone dodge the blow. Duke popped him one in the stomach that folded him  
over, then cracked him in the face, sending him up and over backwards. Jimmy hit the  
ground like a sack of quarters and was out. Seeing the opening, Wild Bill hustled  
the two soldiers out of the bar, across the restaurant, and into the parking lot. He  
grabbed Duke's jacket and his hat as he passed their table.  
  
Jimmy, meanwhile, responded to the blows by bleeding from profusely onto  
the barroom floor. Duke figured he'd be out for a while; he'd hit the floor pretty  
hard. Hearing shuffling behind him, Duke turned to glare at the remaining  
bikers. He growled quietly, You boys want some of that? The puddle of blood  
next to Jimmy grew steadily larger. Duke heard faint sirens. I'd recommend getting  
out of here before the boys in blue show up.   
  
Screw this, Joey, lets go. I don't need to see my PO again that bad. the  
bikers went for the back door. Irma remained, standing over Jimmy in disgust.  
  
Ay, baboso, whaddam I gonna do wit' you?  
  
Duke wiped his hand on a cocktail napkin and turned to go.   
  
Hey, boxeador, Irma caught up with him, You need some company tonight?  
  
Duke glanced back and smiled, No thanks, ma'am, I like danger, but not that  
much. he quickly hurried out and back across the restaurant, past their waitress, who   
stared at him in shock.  
  
Your friend has your coat.  
  
Duke handed her a hundred dollar bill, This'll pay for dinner and to   
clear up the blood. Get Jimmy to cover the rest.  
  
Duke pushed through the entrance to the parking lot. Bill was waiting for him  
in front, the jeep already running, the two rescued soldiers in back Hop in, pard. Cops  
are on their way. Whatever freedom you may have, I'd rather not get into that mess  
than have you pull strings to get us out. Duke grabbed his dress jacket, shrugged  
into it, and climbed into his seat. The jeep peeled out of the parking lot, wheels   
throwing gravel everywhere. They were down the street and around a corner before  
the police cruisers were in sight. Bill slowed down once he figured they were safe.  
  
Duke turned in his seat and looked back at the two men, What the Hell  
kind of trouble were you boys looking for?  
  
The clean shaven one spoke up, Don't blame me, Top. It was Clutch  
who decided he liked the look of that girl. I wouldn't touch her with a ten foot  
pole.  
  
Clutch rubbed the stubble on his face and picked glass out of his hair, Shut  
up, Grunt. How was I to know she dated Godzilla?  
  
Duke was struck with a sinking feeling, Hang on...Clutch? The man  
on the right picked out more glass and nodded, and Grunt? The man on the left   
waved weakly. The sinking feeling increased. Duke reached down for his overnight  
bag, slipped his hand inside and grabbed the two envelopes he had brought. He read  
the names written in Hawk's copperplate script, Lance J. Steinberg and Robert W.  
Graves?   
  
Both men nodded. Duke sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He could  
have predicted as much. The day had been bad almost from the start. He resigned  
himself to the inevitable and handed each man an envelope, In that case, gentlemen,  
I have your new orders.  
  
Wild Bill whooped, Yeehaaw! Boy Howdy, the gang's all here!  
  
Duke glared at Steinberg, Soldier, you owe me a damn big steak.  
  
Bill began to sing. He had a smooth, even voice. Down in the west Texas  
town of El Paso, I fell in love with a Mexican Girl-  
  
  
***************************************  
  
Bar fighting Duke? I thought those days for you had passed, Hawk   
shuffled the papers on his desk into order.  
  
Some habits die hard, sir.  
  
Hawk sighed, I imagine so. You always do manage to wade right into the  
middle of these things.  
  
Yessir. I get myself out of them easily enough.  
  
Hmmm. That you do. Help yourself to coffee and tell me what you think   
of our latest recruits.  
  
Duke filled a mug, ignoring sugar and cream, Wild Bill is excellent.  
  
Wild Bill is a given. I expect only the best out of him, Hawk waved  
to a chair in front of his desk, Have a seat.  
  
Thank you sir. Duke eased himself into the chair and blew on the coffee  
before taking a sip, I guess you're wondering about Steinberg and Graves.  
  
Hawk nodded, It bodes poorly to have found them in that kind of predicament.  
  
I don't think they'll be too much trouble. Grunt is a good enough troop. Honest,  
well motivated. He didn't really loose his cool in that bar, so much as lose patience  
with Clutch.  
  
Yes, and what of Mr. Steinberg? Seems like a poor influence.  
  
Duke smiled. Clutch will fall into line. He's just begging for some old  
fashioned discipline.  
  
See that he gets it, Duke.  
  
No problem sir, I'm keeping my eye on that one. He'll be a good troop,   
properly managed, we wouldn't have chosen him otherwise. He's already  
mastered that VAMP.  
  
Hawk looked pleased, Good, I was hoping for a good man behind the wheel.  
His background in automobiles is quite extensive.  
  
There is one problem, sir, Duke was hesitant.  
  
  
  
Women seem to be his weakness. He's already driving Cover Girl up  
the wall. Its all she can do to get away from him. Actually, I had him drive me here,  
just to give her a break.  
  
From what you've told me, and what I've read of the woman, she'll take  
care of it herself.  
  
I don't think she's come across anyone like him, sir. He's persistent. I  
can't imagine what he'll be like with two women on base.  
  
Hawk raised an eyebrow, We'll find out soon, sergeant.  
  
  
  
I've changed your travel plans. O'Hara's at Paris Island teaching Judo to  
the Leathernecks. I want you to pick her up and swing across to Benning and get  
Pulaski. You can tie up your own loose ends while you're there.  
  
Duke looked numbly into his coffee. He had barely recovered from El  
Paso.  
  
Hawk smiled, Don't worry about Clutch. I've sent over to USAIC for   
Wilkinson. You'll go to Paris Island in the morning, and Clutch can drive  
Wilkinson back to headquarters. He'll keep discipline while you're gone.  
  
Duke brightened. It had been a long time since he had seen Stalker, too long.  
  
Hawk stood up, indicating the meeting was over. Duke quickly finished his  
coffee. I've taken the liberty of arranging a room for you tonight, Hawk handed Duke  
an airline ticket to Charleston, Your flight leaves at eight.  
  
Duke rose and saluted,   
  
Carry on, soldier.  
  
  
  
  
  



	7. 7

part 7

Part 7  
Diana M.  
  


  
Duke pulled up to the guardhouse at the gate of Parris Island. When he  
rolled down the window to show the guard his clearance, a hot, sticky wall of air  
forced its way in and overpowered the air conditioners. Typical of Jarheads, Duke   
thought to himself, build an important training base in one of the most uncomfortable  
places they could find. Duke had once thought of enlisting as a marine, back when  
he was considering options- back when he had time to consider anything. He had  
to admit, the leathernecks earned a lot of glory. But he had found the army too   
powerful a draw, what with his stepfather's own service. Besides, Duke thought, he   
liked himself too much to live the gung-ho life. Those guys were crazy sons of bitches.  
  
Where you headed, Top? The guard passed back Duke's clearance papers.  
  
Point me in the direction of the gym, soldier. The person I'm after is giving  
you gyrenes some sort of martial arts demonstration this morning.  
  
Oh, you're here for her, are you? The guard winked, Better take a number,  
there's quite a few that want a piece of her, He handed Duke a small map and   
pointed to a large block, You'll want to head straight back on this road, Top. You'll  
hit it soon enough.  
  
The guard moved to lift the gate and let Duke drive through. Duke waved as  
he passed under the candy striped bar, Thanks, soldier.  
  
Good luck, Top. I hear she's a tiger!  
  
Duke rolled his eyes and drove towards the gym. Hot Damn. Soldiers were  
some of the biggest horn dogs out there. Show a man in uniform a woman; the  
only thing he usually saw was a pair of legs with breasts on top and something   
interesting in between.  
  
Not that he was exactly an innocent himself.  
  
How exactly did he feel about serving with women? Duke mused to himself as  
he drove towards the gym. It was not a question he had really found himself faced  
with often. Women made good fighter pilots, he knew. Their smaller size and  
somewhat faster reflexes and recall worked well in the newer jets. Both Cover Girl  
and this O'Hara had a fine record of surpassing the necessary physical requirements,  
or Hawk would have never considered them. Duke's mother was a very strong  
woman; he never doubted that women could be successful in the military. There  
had been some tough nurses in Nam. As of yet, though, no woman had served in an   
combat capacity whatsoever. Duke wondered whether Hawk was experimenting with  
trouble.  
  
Could any healthy, normal man serve next to a woman and not go nuts?  
Cover Girl had quickly squashed any thoughts of sexism the men might have been  
entertaining. In fact, she had a rather large fan club brewing. Clutch wasn't the only   
girly crazy soldier on base. Duke could see the   
headache that could potentially await him. Jealousy, fighting among the men - morale  
could take a beating. Two women could make it worse.   
  
As he parked in front of the gym, Duke determined  
to forbid on-base relationships one hundred percent. It was the only way to keep  
things in order. He'd just have to be a hardass about it. Duke slammed the car door  
with new resolve. He'd lay down the law. From there, Duke thought as he turned the  
knob, the girls would have to take care of themselves.  
  
Duke pulled open the gym door and nearly collided with a Marine who flew   
through the air and landed with a crash amid a bleacher full of classmates at the  
far end of the gym. The man was hauled to his feet and sent back to the mats  
by supportive buddies. He dashed towards a diminutive red haired figure in a ghi that  
looked almost too big for its wearer. The marine must have easily outweighed the   
woman by at least a hundred pounds. Duke watched, amused, as she grabbed  
the man and sent him flying once more into the stands. This time, he stayed down.  
  
As I said, gentlemen, size really doesn't matter. Speed and leverage play  
a role, she put her hands on her hips and stood proudly, experience is a biggie  
too. I reccommend you all practice these techniques as much as possible. You all  
need it, she nodded to a drill sergeant off to the side.  
  
All right, you pigs, go shower. Move it! The gym quickly emptied.  
  
O'Hara walked off the mat to a gym bag on bench. She pulled out a towel  
and wiped her head and neck. She took a swig from a small plastic bottle and began  
packing everything back carefully into the bag. Duke came up behind her.  
  
Sergeant Shanna O'Hara? She turned and smiled at him, and Duke felt  
momentarily stunned. He knew why the guard at the gate had wished him luck.   
  
That's me, Top, Duke could see that although she was small - petite, really,  
she was very well muscled. The paleness of her skin made her red hair and blue  
eyes stand out all the more. Her lips... Top? You wanted to see me?  
  
Yes, sorry, Duke mentally kicked himself, I have new orders for you,  
O'Hara, he handed her the envelope, You'll need to come with me, A.S.A.P.  
  
Can I shower first? I really don't come out of these things smelling like a rose.  
  
Well... of course..I expected you to, Duke couldn't help his own thoughts.  
It HAD been a while, By all means..Sh, ahem, shower away.  
  
I have to go to the quarters they gave me. For some odd reason, the guys who  
built Parris Island forgot a women's locker room. She swung her bag over her   
shoulder and headed for the door. Duke jogged to catch up.  
  
Here, let me drive you.  
  
She smiled at him, and his heart skipped a beat. Dammit.  
  
Together they climbed into his car and she guided him to a remote corner of the   
base. Duke was glad he'd offered to drive; it would have been a long walk. Put you  
well beyond reach, didn't they? She indicated he should pull over, and he parked in   
front of some very empty looking quarters.  
  
Yeah. It's a real pain in the ass, let me tell you, She got out, slamming the  
door a little harder than necessary, I can understand wanting me away from the   
throbbing hormones of the trainees, but this is ridiculous, She unlocked a door  
in the middle of the building and went inside. Without being invited, Duke followed.  
O'Hara dropped her bag on the floor and headed for the bathroom, talking to  
him over her shoulder, it could have been worse; they could have put me in some  
empty quonset hut somewhere, she closed the bathroom door, and Duke heard her  
turn on the shower. She shouted to be heard over the running water, I hope you  
don't mind waiting.  
  
Duke sat on a chair in the corner. The room wasn't bad, really, just remote,   
No, it's not a problem, he fidgeted with his beret and tried  
hard not to think about what was going on behind the bathroom door. It was a trial.  
  
She was out in under ten minutes. It took her another ten to dry   
her hair, thick as it was. Duke wondered why no one had ordered it cut to military  
standards, but was secretly glad it wasn't. Cover Girl had managed to get away not  
only with long hair, but she bleached it as well.   
  
O'Hara came out of the bathroom neatly dressed in greens that looked crisp   
and freshly pressed, Well, Top, what have you got for me? She grabbed the  
envelope from where she had tossed it on the bed and opened it with a nail. As she   
read, her smile widened, I see Uncle Sugar has finally decided to give us a piece of  
the action. About time.  
  
You and another are the only two women. I can't imagine it'll be easy.  
  
Being a woman? Never been a problem for me. It's you guys that have  
issues with it, She folded her orders and put them back in the envelope.  
  
What I meant was...  
  
I know what you meant, Top, She grabbed a large duffel from next to the bed  
and tossed it by her gym bag, Sex changes everything.  
  
Duke was taken aback. She seemed to have no problem whatsoever being  
totally candid with him. It wasn't insubordination, or a lack of manners. It was ...  
refreshing.  
  
She made a last sweep of her quarters and returned to stand in front of him,  
It says effective immediately', so I imagine we have to leave soon.  
  
Duke pulled himself to his feet and smoothed his jacket, Yeah, I have another  
pick up to make.  
  
She swung her bags over her shoulders, So let's go. I can't wait to get out of  
here. Marines are pretty good soldiers, but really terrible company.  
  
Duke took the heavier looking bag from her and opened the door, I'll try and  
do better, O'Hara.  
  
She smiled up at him as she passed, It's Scarlett, Top.  
  
He couldn't help grinning back at her, Call me Duke.  
  
  
  
*************************************************************  
  
  
The drive from Parris Island to Benning was a long one. Duke took the 170 to  
the 95, hopped the state line into Georgia and got onto the 16 just outside of   
Savannah. It was humid, but clear, and Duke was enjoying the scenery. Scarlett  
was quiet at first, but her mood lightened once they left South Carolina.  
  
It's nice to be close to home, she stared out the window at the passing trees.  
  
Really? It makes me kind of homesick, getting so close.  
  
Scarlett was surprised, Funny, you don't sound like a southern boy, she   
turned to face him.  
  
Well, probably because I'm not. Not this far south, anyway. I'm from  
Missouri. But I got close a few days ago when I was in Peoria. Wanted to go home  
pretty bad, to tell the truth. This whole thing started in the middle of my leave.  
  
That's a pisser.  
  
You bet, He swerved to avoid what looked like a line of squished turtles.  
Some real nasty bastard had passed last night, squashing terrapins for fun. Scarlett  
made a face at the sight.  
  
Must've been hard on your family, you leaving so suddenly, she absent  
mindedly flicked her ponytail over her shoulder.  
  
Duke dodged another line of turtle smear, my mother took it pretty hard,  
and I think my sisters and brother were kind of sad about it-they're pretty young   
though, probably got wrapped up in something else the day after I left.  
  
No one else? Scarlett turned her attention fully to her nails.  
  
Well, my stepfather took it all in stride. He was a career man himself, till  
mom forced him to retire, Duke wondered why he was telling her all this.  
  
No one else? Scarlett repeated, very absorbed in her nails.  
  
Uhh, I doubt my cousins even knew I was home. All my aunts and uncles  
are pretty busy. And, um, well, anyone else lives in another country or is dead, so..  
Duke was distracted with this odd line of questioning, and ran over a patch of turtle  
carcasses. Little thumps and clatters as the tires ran over the shell pieces, I'm pretty  
sure no one else was too bothered by my going, no.  
  
Scarlett polished an invisible piece of dust off of one nail and smiled  
to herself,   
  
It occurred to Duke why she might have been probing so deeply into his  
family life. He was surprised enough to keep quiet for the next thirty miles. Just  
outside of Macon, she broke the silence, My stomach's growling, let's stop for some  
lunch.  
  
Sounds good to me. What do you feel like?  
  
Anything, as long as I get to stretch my legs, almost involuntarily, Duke's  
eyes were drawn down to her thighs. They were pretty nice, although dress greens  
did a lot to hide...  
  
  
  
Oh God, Duke thought to himself, please tell me she didn't notice.  
  
I said, why don't we pick up something from a burger joint and find a park?  
Her face didn't let on whether she had noticed his wandering gaze or not.  
  
Isn't it a bit hot? Wouldn't you rather eat inside somewhere with air-  
conditioning?  
  
I feel like I've been sitting in this car forever. The air conditioning is giving  
me a headache. Fresh air would be a relief. Besides, she waved at the landscape  
blurring past the window, quickly becoming more urban as they neared town, this  
isn't hot. Down here, this is a balmy summer's day.  
  
You made the call, Red.  
  
She smiled at him, believe it or not, people don't really call me that.  
  
he shrugged, It slipped out.  
  
Don't apologize. I kind of like it.  
  
In the end, they picked up a few burgers at Burger King and stopped at Central  
City Park. Duke agreed with Scarlett; it was nice to walk around after the   
long drive from Parris Island. Eschewing a table for the grass, they relaxed under  
the hot sun. He had to admit, it felt good on his skin after sitting so long in front  
of the air conditioner. He took off his beret and let the sunlight wash warmly over his  
head. He looked over at the empty styrofoam box that had only recently held   
Scarlett's burger.  
  
That went fast.  
  
She burped quietly and daintily wiped her lips, Excuse me. Let's not talk about  
my speed in the face of your sheer quantities. Do you really need three burgers?  
  
Hey, it takes a lot of food to keep a guy my size going. I work out hard; I'll  
probably end up burning this up pretty fast.  
  
She nodded slowly to herself, You're lucky. Its nice you can convert all that  
to muscle.  
  
Duke finished his first burger and took a large bite of his second, Sometimes  
its all I can do to keep weight on. I remember in Nam I lost ten or twenty pounds every  
patrol, sometimes more. You sort of sweat it off.  
  
I don't. Scarlett poked a twig through the roof of her box.  
  
Ahhh, you got nothing to worry about, Duke's last burger was gone faster then  
either of the first two.  
  
she gathered the trash together and crammed it all into one bag,  
You know, from the way you were talking earlier, it sounds like you have a big  
family. Kind of like mine.  
  
It's bigger than most, I guess. You have a lot of brothers , Duke  
lay back on his elbows and watched kids run over the grass. One of them reminded  
him of Vincent, when he was younger.  
  
Only one sister, Siobhan. I'm closer to my brothers, all three of them. Wait a  
minute. That was a statement, not a question.  
  
I've read your file, Duke smiled as two boys started fighting over a large  
yellow toy truck. He didn't see who won, however. His view was blocked as  
Scarlett scooted over in front of him.  
  
So you already know everything about me. I find that very annoying.  
  
Everything Uncle Sam knows. Not the real personal stuff, Duke's cup  
gurgled as his sucked the last of his soda through the straw, I'm sure there's  
more to you than what's in your file.  
  
Well, sure, Scarlett sounder perturbed, but when do I get to read about you?  
  
When we get back to the new base, I imagine. The man who put this   
together wanted everyone to be pretty close, Duke scraped wax off the edge of the   
cup with his fingernail, You'll get to see everyone's green sheet.  
  
What the Hell is a green sheet?  
  
A little piece of paper we put together on everybody with all the non-  
dangerous info. You know, training, experience, attitudes; that kind of thing. Nothing  
classified, he rolled the wax into a little ball and flicked it away, Green for go', I   
guess. As in go ahead and read it'.  
  
But you read my whole file.  
  
Everything I had clearance for. I read everybody's file. I had to.  
  
And I suppose you have a lot of clearance.  
  
More than most, Duke crushed his cup as he stood up, We'd better get  
back on the road, He picked up the trash and started towards the car. She caught   
up to him.  
  
So, was my file at least interesting? She walked next to him, looking at the  
ground.  
  
Yours was better than a lot of others I had to sit through, he threw the bag  
in a garbage can and put on his beret and sunglasses, I have to say, the car keys   
jingled as he pulled them from his pocket, I like you much better in person.  
  
Duke got on the 80 just outside of Macon. From there it was a straight shot   
west to Ft. Benning. Duke found Scarlett easy to talk to, and they continued their  
conversation for the rest of the trip. He barely noticed the time passing, and was   
surprised to find them near the base with the sun setting.  
  
Wow, I guess we're almost here, he smiled at her and pointed out his window  
at an obstacle course, Just a month or so ago, I was running dogfaces over that   
course. Used to make em do it three times just for fun.  
  
You taskmaster, you, her laughter was a pleasant, bubbly sound, not unlike  
the creek Duke used to wade in as a child, Don't tell me you're going to run us  
that way.  
  
No ma'am. Near as I figure, you're trained enough. I expect you to stay in   
shape and do what I tell you. Besides, he turned serious, the obstacles you'll be  
hitting make those look like a playground.  
  
That's my life, she sighed, following orders.  
  
Oh, I think you'll find things a bit different from now on, the sun was gone from  
the sky, Not that there won't be orders to follow, or discipline to keep. But I would  
imagine you'll get a bit more freedom. Like uniform design, for example. Feel free  
to put together whatever's comfortable, as long as it's decent and can withstand  
rough conditions. Besides, you're a sergeant. I'm sure there'll be someone for you to  
push around.  
  
Funny. Hey, where are you going? he had pulled off the highway and on to  
Flat Rock Road.  
  
This turns into Schatulga. We'll take it to Move and get on base. I'm beat.  
We'll have to get Pulaski in the morning. I need some supper. Come to think of it, I  
might as well pack up my quarters tonight. There are some things I wanted to take with  
me.  
  
We're staying the night?  
  
Well, sure. I'm not going to grab Pulaski and fly out of here tonight. There's  
stuff I need to take care of. I have a few buddies here. I'd sort of like to say goodbye  
before I disappear again, she looked upset, What's wrong with that?  
  
Nothing, really. I mean, naturally you'd want to wrap up loose ends, she   
sighed and turned to look out the window, I'm just not looking forward to being  
stowed away again on base.  
  
Stowed away?  
  
Let me level with you. My stay at Parris was a drag. They packed me  
off to the farthest corner of the base, as far away from horny cadets as they could get   
me.  
  
Benning's a bit bigger. I'm sure we'll find a nice place for you.  
  
she continued to stare out the window, I don't know. I guess I was  
hoping for a little time to relax before this assignment started.  
  
Duke understood too well what she meant. He still felt twinges of anger from  
being pulled away from leave. He pulled the car to the side of the road and stopped,  
Look. I know how you feel. Do you want me to drive to Columbus so you  
can find a hotel?  
  
She smiled at him, That'd be great.  
  
Duke turned around and turned left on Macon Road. Soon they were in  
Columbus. Duke knew the town well. Many an evening he had spent relaxing  
with off base with a friend or two. Driving through town brought back many memories,  
both good and bad. He pulled over at the Days Inn; that brought back a memory  
or two as well.  
  
Scarlett opened the door, This is perfect. There's even a grill  
down the block where I can get a drink and a few bites to eat.  
  
Duke hadn't realized how weary he was until he stopped the car, Dammit,  
I really don't want to drive all the way back to base. Scarlett stopped halfway out of   
the door. Duke bounced his fist on the steering wheel and looked at the office, I   
guess, I guess I'll stay in town. I'll take care of everything tomorrow. He turned to see  
Scarlett smiling at him, That is, as long as you don't mind.  
  
Now why would I mind? she climbed all the way out, You're a decent guy,  
I can trust you. Its not as if we'll be in the same room.  
  
Duke got out and followed her to the office. He wasn't sure that this was the  
right thing to do. He was, after all, officially a higher ranking NCO. Could this be  
seen as against protocol? On the surface, no; but Duke already felt something  
going on underneath the surface of things. She intrigued him. They reached the  
office, and he opened the door and held it for her.  
  
Can I help you? Duke though at first that the gravelly voice belonged to the   
man he remembered from his last visit. Looking behind the counter, he saw he was   
wrong. The large pale thing which regarded from behind a haze of cigarette smoke  
mostly resembled a woman. Still, Duke was not altogether sure. You soldiers   
lookin' fer a room? From the accent, Duke deduced it was at least native to the area.  
  
Two actually, Scarlett grinned warmly. It was a persuasive smile. Duke   
figured she used it to get what she wanted.  
  
That's forty bucks a piece, kids. Kind of a chunk to pay fo' keeping up   
appearances, the smile they were presented with lacked class and teeth. Duke  
pulled Scarlett aside.  
  
Forty bucks! We both could have stayed on base for free! he hissed to  
avoid being overheard.  
  
Some freedoms are worth paying for, she whispered back.  
  
This place has as little to do with free' as possible, and there's nowhere  
cheaper.  
  
You seem well acquainted with Columbus motels. Duke frowned in  
response. Look, Duke, I have an idea. These places usually have one room  
with two bedrooms. That way parents can get some privacy from the kids. If we  
rent one of those, it'll probably be cheaper.  
  
  
  
Scarlett waved at the lump behind the counter, who was watching them  
with interest. I don't mind it, Duke, if you don't.  
  
Duke thought for a second. It was pushing it, That's right on the line of  
protocol, Scarlett.  
  
Don't tell me you can't control yourself around little ol me?  
  
Duke was taken aback, and forgot to whisper, I can control myself pretty  
much anywhere, sergeant.  
  
Good, then we'll do it, She walked matter-of-factly up to the counter,   
do you have one of those double-suites vacant?  
  
I sure do, the lump grinned toothlessly at them again, and I'll let you two  
have it fo fifty bucks. Scarlett looked back at Duke. He shrugged. A course you'll  
have to pay now, and I pree-fer a credit card.  
  
Scarlett turned to Duke, I left my purse in the car. In my duffle. I think its near  
the bottom.  
  
Oh Hell, he took out his wallet and pulled out a credit card, You owe me,   
Red. he handed his card to the lump, who put ran it through the machine and  
gave him a form.  
  
If ya could just fill this out and sign here, ya'll are set. The lump handed  
back his card. Duke resisted the urge to wipe it off on his jacket before he put it away.  
  
What room is it? Scarlett held her hand out for the key, If you want, Duke,  
I'll pull the car around while you finish up here.  
  
Room six, under the stairs at the end, missy, the lump pulled a key from the  
board behind her and handed it to Scarlett. Duke tossed her the car keys. The room  
rental form had more questions than he remembered.   
  
Can I make a local call from the room? There are a few people on base I want  
to get in touch with, Duke noticed a name tag that was almost lost in a greasy  
fold of the lump's t-shirt. It announced the lump was actually named Mary-Lou. He felt  
triumphant in the discovery.  
  
Local calls are free. No parties in th' rooms, though, beyond what you two   
already had planned, it, she, winked at him. Duke felt sick, There's also a porn  
channel if ya want it. Just put a quarter in the box on th' tee-vee. Another wink.  
  
Gosh, thanks. Duke quickly signed the form and gave Mary-Lou back her  
pen. He could almost swear to seeing her absorb it. He hurried out of the office and  
found Scarlett unloading the car at the end of the building. She slammed the trunk   
shut and tossed him the keys.  
  
I got your bag already.  
  
Duke went in and inspected the room. He was surprised by its cleanliness.  
It followed the typical hotel layout: double bed, dresser with a television on top, lamps  
on two matching bedside tables, phone on one side. Duke imagined everything  
was probably screwed down, including the remote. A door next to the television led to  
another bedroom. There was only one bathroom, though, in the back of the first  
room. A paper collar around the toilet seat announced it had been sanitized, for your  
protection'. Duke wondered what they might have needed protecting from.  
  
I guess we'll have to share, Scarlett had poked her head in from the second  
room, there isn't one in here.  
  
I guess, Duke noticed she had already moved her bags in there, and left his  
on the bed in front, So you've claimed that one, huh? I'd have thought you would   
have wanted to be closer to the, uh, shower.  
  
Scarlett turned on the television and flipped it to a news channel,   
There's no TV in there, either. I don't really mind. Its farther away from the road, and   
the window faces away from all the lights. Besides, I just feel so much more secure  
knowing that any poorly intentioned bad man must go through you first, She  
clutched her hands to her chest and batted her eyelids dramatically.  
  
Duke sighed, why do I feel like I'm doing something wrong? he tossed  
his duffel on the floor and sat down on the bed, It feels so utterly against   
regulations.  
  
Relax, Duke. Technically, we're doing nothing wrong, Scarlett kicked her   
shoes on the floor and shrugged out of her jacket.  
  
Duke dropped his beret on the bedside table and picked up the phone.  
  
Who are you calling?  
  
A few of my buddies on base. I figure they haven't eaten yet. If they can   
wrangle a quick pass from the L.T., we can grab some grub down the street.  
  
Scarlett turned back to the T.V. Duke dialed directly to Dragon's quarters.  
The phone managed half a ring before it was snatched up.  
  
the voice at the other end sounded bored.  
  
Dragon, you bastard, I'm back in town.  
  
Duke, you fucker! I was wondering when you'd get back. Where the Hell  
are you? The troops are happy, so you can't be back on base.  
  
Nah, Drag, I'm in town, that place down the street from the Bullseye. Duke  
knew what Dragon's next thought would be.  
  
No cute chicks in St. Louis, eh? I knew you were crazy for those southern  
girls. Is she hot? Dragon chuckled.  
  
Duke glanced at Scarlett, Yeah, actually. But it's not what you think.  
  
Sure it isn't., Dragon sounded unconvinced, she can't be all that great, or  
you wouldn't have time to call me.  
  
Listen, prick, you'll understand when you get over here. I got a lot to tell   
you. Badger a few passes out of the L.T. and grab Bear. Then get your lazy asses  
over here. I'm in room six. We'll get a bite to eat and a beer.  
  
You act like I'm some kind of miracle worker.  
  
Just do it, Dragon. Don't whine about it, you son of a bitch!  
  
Dragon laughed heartily, Sure, man, give me forty five minutes. We'll be   
there.  
  
Duke laughed back at him and hung up. He turned around to find Scarlett  
watching him with interest. That's exactly how I talk to my friends.  
  
Duke felt himself blush, Oh, sorry about the language. I forgot myself. Duke  
slipped off his shoes and sat back against the wall, stretching his legs out, they'll  
be here in three quarters of an hour. Gives me a little time to rest.  
  
Do you want to sleep? I could go next door.  
  
No, you don't have to. Even if I wanted to, you wouldn't bother me any, he   
reached over to the bedside table and grabbed the remote. It WAS screwed down.   
Resigned to the bad taste of Motel theft prevention, Duke had to slide over closer to   
read the labels. He switched the channel to a ballgame.  
  
Hey! I was watching that! Scarlett came over and tried to snatch the remote.   
She was thwarted by the screw, and made a little sound of frustration that brought  
a smile to Duke's lips.  
  
Go ahead and switch it back. It was only the Braves, anyhow. she snorted at  
him and changed the channel back to the news, Tell me something, Red. You were   
born in Atlanta.  
  
  
  
Grew up there.  
  
  
  
In a state where even the newscasters sound like something from the  
country bear jamboree.  
  
Well, to put it rudely, she threw the television listings at him, some people  
consider Georgia the center of the cultural world.  
  
Sure, like Mary-Lou over there in the office, he caught the listings before they  
hit him in the face.  
  
What's your point, Duke?  
  
Where's your accent?  
  
she turned all the way around to face him, a lot of people wonder about  
that.  
  
He nodded slowly, It is to wonder, yes.  
  
I'm not exactly sure, to tell the truth. I never had one. I think it has something  
to do with the fact that I grew up around people with a strong Irish lilt.  
  
Duke smiled, You don't have that either.  
  
she fumbled with the corner of the bedspread, I guess the two just  
canceled out.  
  
Duke thought about it, It makes a sort of sense. I imagine you pick up  
accents pretty easily. Must be a plus when you're working intelligence.  
  
It helps, she turned back to the news. Duke felt relaxed. He was surprised   
how comfortable he was beginning to feel around this woman who had less than  
twelve hours ago been a complete stranger. He let his head fall back against the  
headboard, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath, releasing it slowly through his  
nose.  
  
He woke up later to find the television dark and Scarlett gone. The door  
between the rooms was shut. Duke got up and knocked lightly on it.  
  
Come in, he pushed the door open to find Scarlett sitting on her bed reading  
what looked like a tattered Robert Parker novel, You fell asleep, so I thought I'd come  
in here and read a little. The news started getting noisy.  
  
Thanks. Spencer, huh? he pointed at her book.  
  
Yeah, he's a good read.  
  
Duke thought for something else to say, My friends should be here soon. I was  
wondering- he was stopped by a loud knock at the door, followed by a holler.  
  
Hey Duke, are you decent? Open up! it was a resonant, deep voice.  
  
Does she have any friends? the second voice was much more nasal.  
  
Duke slipped the latch and opened the door to reveal two men. One was a   
large black man, the other was tall, but quite skinny. Both were in dress greens. Duke  
laughed and they took turns slapping each other on the shoulder. Dragon! Bear!   
Good to see you two!  
  
The skinny man chortled nasally, She must be classy. Yer talkin' mighty  
clean! Duke felt his ears turn red. He heard Scarlett clear her throat behind him and  
saw both Bear and Dragon's eyes go wide.  
  
I'm very classy, Duke turned and saw that Scarlett has put her shoes and   
dress jacket back on. She looked sharp and professional, and, Duke had to add,  
drop dead gorgeous. She smiled and the whole room lit up. Sargent Shanna  
O'Hara, she shook both their hands, Duke is escorting me and another troop from  
Benning to our new assignment.  
  
The skinny man was awestruck, but the large man found his voice, Call me  
Dragon, ma'am. This nitwit here is Bear. Pleased to meet you, Dragon looked  
at Duke, New assignment? That means you too?  
  
Duke nodded, Yeah. My days of intimidating trainees are over.  
  
We do have a lot to talk about. Don't think I haven't seen that new patch on   
your sleeve. Lets go grab a beer and some steaks at The Bullseye and hear the story.  
  
You bet, I'm starving. Duke followed Dragon and Bear out the door. He  
stopped when he realized Scarlett wasn't following, aren't you coming along?  
  
Sure, I didn't realize the invitation was there, he held the door for her as  
she walked out. Together, they walked down the block to The Bullseye Grill  
and Bar, a regular hang-out for the troops from Benning lucky enough to be out on a  
pass or a dare. They sat at a large booth in the corner and ordered a round of beers.  
Of the selection, Duke only found Heinekin to be drinkable. The rest was swill. He  
prayed America would get its act together soon. Most of mainland Europe knew  
how to produce good beer. Germany has brewing laws hundreds of years old.   
He spent the usual few minutes trying to find something good. The harried  
bar girl finally delivered their drinks and left. Duke found Scarlett smiling at him.  
  
  
  
Her grin broadened, Beer snob.  
  
Dragon and Bear laughed heartily. Dragon slapped Scarlett on the back,  
forcing her to swallow a mouthful prematurely, You noticed too, huh? Lady,  
you're OK.  
  
Bear chimed in, Our man Duke never could settle for the regular stuff.  
He has to be a pussy about it.  
  
Watch your mouth, Bear, Duke glared angrily.   
  
Scarlett laughed with Dragon, Say, why do you call him Bear', anyway?  
He's not so big.  
  
It was Duke's turn to smile, We don't call him that cause he's big-  
  
We call him that cause he's a hairy son of a bitch! Dragon finished, and  
all three men roared. From there, the conversation wandered. Duke explained as   
much about his transfer as he was able. Neither Dragon nor Bear had ever known   
about his double duty in intelligence. That was top secret. Duke wasn't sure whether  
the Joes would even learn of his full past. The waitress brought each of them a   
massive steak. Talk and beer flowed pretty freely. Duke was pleasantly  
surprised to see Scarlett keeping up on both counts.  
  
Before Duke knew it, it was one in the morning, and the bar was shutting down.  
Bear and Dragon both stood, I imagine we'll see you in the morning, Duke. You'd  
better stop by before you go. Brutus will want to say goodbye, I'm sure.  
  
Scarlett's eyes had taken on a glassy shine,   
  
Duke patted her hand, Smascot. Ol bulldog. Gotta be around ten or so.  
Good ol' Brutus. There before me. I'll miss the mutt. Duke was sure he could  
speak more clearly if he tried.  
  
Scarlett grinned at him, You like dogs?  
  
Love He patted her hand some more, and they love me. Never met  
a dog I didn't like.  
  
Bear sat down, ready to join in again, Iss true, ma'am. I rememmember. I  
rememem.. I..I recall once Duke and I foun' this ol' poodle pup in the rain, an we- he  
was cut off by Dragon's large hand wrapping around his collar.  
  
C'mon, hairy Bear, we'd better go. We're late back to base, and the L.T.'s  
a bitch, he shook Scarlett's hand, nice meeting you ma'am.  
  
Scarlett waved happily. She turned to Duke as they left, Are they safe  
to drive?  
  
Duke hauled himself to his feet. It was harder than he remembered. Where  
did all those bottles on the table come from? Yeah, they're fine. Dragon's a   
fantastic driver. Fucking amazing, the way he can drive, he managed to focus on  
her long enough to take a step or two in her direction, We'd better go to. It's way  
past bedtime.  
  
I'm pretty sleepy, too, Scarlett yawned, went for the door, and tripped over her   
own chair, oops! I'll be honest with you. I don't usually drink this much.  
  
Duke offered her his arm, It don't even show. Lessgo. Arm in arm, they   
walked out of The Bullseye and down the street. Duke looked down at her  
as they made their way back to the motel. She was amazing, really. Strong, smart,  
funny, and pretty. Duke would have to congratulate Hawk on his decision to  
transfer her to the Joes. Any woman who could survive a night out with Dragon and  
Bear was a keeper.  
  
A cool breeze blew by, rustling the leaves of the dogwoods that lined the  
street. Scarlett huddled closer to Duke, her grip tightening on his arm. He felt a   
flutter of something in his stomach. She was very nice.  
  
You're very nice, Scarlett, dammit! Was that him saying that? That sounded  
like him. She smiled up at him. Her eyes were very blue.  
  
So are you, Duke, she leaned her head against his shoulder, and his stomach  
jumped again. They reached the motel, and opened the door to the suite. Scarlett  
went straight to her room and flopped on the bed. Duke stood for a moment in the   
doorway, thinking. There was something he always did after a night of drinking, so  
the hangover wouldn't be as bad. What was it? He looked around for inspiration.  
His eyes stopped at the bathroom. Water. That was it, lots of water. He went to  
the bathroom and took a long drink from the tap. Then he filled two glasses and  
took them to Scarlett's room. She hadn't moved from where she had landed on the   
bed.  
  
You'd better drink these, she sat up and took a glass, emptying it in one swig.  
It'll help in the morning, he handed her the other glass. She downed it just a fast.  
  
her smile was mesmerizing. Duke found himself lost in it. She was  
very pretty. Downright beautiful, really. He found himself suddenly unable to  
catch his breath.  
  
Red, I...you're he couldn't find the words.  
  
she was whispering. She sounded...unsure, You can stay, if  
you want to. Duke knew exactly what he wanted. In a moment of clarity, he also  
knew exactly how much trouble he would cause for the both of them if he got it.  
  
Scarlett, I want to. I really do. You're gorgeous, she blushed. I mean it  
you are. Normally, I'd be there like a shot. But...  
  
  
  
But we're both really drunk, and we have to work together, it's against  
regulations, and the man we have to work under probably wouldn't stand for it.  
  
You're right, Duke, she flopped back on the bed, We'd probably both regret it  
in the morning, he switched out her bedside lamp and went back to his room. He   
stopped in the doorway and turned back to face her.  
  
No, Scarlett, I don't think I would. But she was already asleep.  
  



	8. 8

part 8

Part 8:  
  
Diana M.  
  


Duke was awakened by the shrill sounds of children arguing outside.  
  
Momma said I could use the ring! Momma! Momma, Jerry's got the ring  
and you said I could use it!.  
  
Shut up Marty, I got it first!  
  
  
  
  
  
You kids better not make me come out there! Two loud splashes marked  
the end of the argument. Duke sighed and resigned himself to consciousness. He  
turned and looked out the window to see the day bathed in bright sunlight. The   
clock bolted to the bed stand read 9:30.  
  
Duke quickly sat up. He regretted it immediately. How much did  
he drink last night? He rubbed the back of his neck and wondered if there was  
complimentary aspirin in the bathroom. He stood up to go and investigate, but was   
stopped by the sound of running water. Recollections of the night before flooded   
back to him. He sank back down on the bed. It hadn't exactly been the best of  
ways to establish a leadership position over his new troop. He held his throbbing  
head in his hands and felt extremely stupid.  
  
The water stopped, and a few minutes later the door to the bathroom  
swung open with a creak. Duke looked up to see Scarlett step out wrapped in a towel,  
her hair done up in a sort of turban. She blushed, I, uhh, thought you might still be   
asleep, she laughed nervously and clutched tightly at the towel wrapped around her.  
Duke found it impossible to look away.  
  
Some screaming kids by the pool... He waved vaguely towards the window.  
  
Oh, of course. Annoying monsters. Sometimes they make me very glad  
I'm single, another nervous laugh, well, I woke up and thought I'd just scrub  
myself clean, Duke tried not to think too hard about the images that brought to mind,  
you were still asleep, I just tiptoed by..I uhh..thought you'd sleep longer, so  
I didn't bring a change of clothes. She blushed again.  
  
Any hot water left? Duke stood-slowly for the sake of his head, and stretched  
luxuriously. He finished by cracking his neck. When he looked back, he found  
Scarlett watching him. He glanced down at his t-shirt and boxers, and back up at her.  
  
  
Her blush deepened, Nothing..nothing... I'm sure there's plenty of  
hot water. Absolutely, She took a step towards the door connecting the two  
rooms, I even left you a towel, Scarlett smiled broadly.  
  
Duke crossed his arms over his chest and began to feel self conscious,   
Well, I guess I'll get in there, strip down and hose off- his voice caught in his  
throat. To any other recruit, it wouldn't have mattered. In this case, however...  
  
Scarlett quickly walked over to her room, Yes, well, I'm sure you want to get in, I  
mean climb..I mean get wet.. Umm, I mean..oh Hell! she went in and quickly slammed   
the door.  
  
Duke cursed quietly to himself and went into the bathroom. The mirror was  
steamed over, and a humid mist hung in the air. Apparently, she liked really hot  
showers. Stop it, Hauser, Duke mumbled to himself. Things were going to be  
awkward for some time. He peeled off his underwear and climbed in, pulling  
the shower curtain closed. He turned on the water and let it run over his head and  
down his face. What had he been thinking last night? Things had gotten close.  
A few more beers and he might have washed two careers down the drain. Still...  
He remembered the way she had looked up at him over the rim of her glass  
the night before. The sound of her voice as she whispered nervously, inviting him to  
stay. I had almost cracked with anxiousness-or was it anticipation? It was the  
alcohol, dickhead. his voice echoed against the tiles. Question answered. Case   
closed. Over. Finito.   
  
Duke tried in vain to think of something else as he soaped   
himself clean. He rinsed off and looked around for the tiny complimentary bottle  
of shampoo. It was nowhere to be seen. He peered around the shower curtain   
and saw two empty bottles in the trash can. Great. She must have used both  
bottles on that red mane of hers, thick as it was. Thick, luxurious, silky to the touch.  
Sliding softly through fingers and... AAARRRGGHHH! Leave it alone!   
It's forbidden fruit. So you've got to forget about it. There's more important things to do.   
Duke looked down, You, too. He grabbed the bar of soap, lathered his  
hair, and felt extremely sorry for himself.  
  
Five minutes later, Duke climbed dripping out of the shower and rubbed his   
head with a dry towel. It still ached dully. He jumped at a knock on the door.   
  
  
Do you think we have time for breakfast? I'm starving.  
  
Duke's stomach rumbled at the mention of food. He, too, was hungry, but  
he wasn't sure it was a good idea to eat anything just yet, Me, I could murder  
a cup of coffee. But we're running pretty late. I had hoped to be on base by now.  
He wrapped the towel around his waist and pulled the door open, surprising her.  
  
She stepped back , I didn't think you were done. I   
thought you would shave, or something.  
  
I will, but I hate talking to a door. Duke walked over to the chair by his bed and  
pulled his dress pants from the pile he'd left the night before. He stealthily snagged  
a pair of boxers from his duffle and went back into the bathroom, Hang on a sec,  
and I'll be closer to decent, he shut the door and stepped into his underwear and  
pants. Zipping the fly, he opened the door.  
  
You seem decent enough already, She blushed and quickly looked down.  
Duke wasn't quite sure how to take that. He went back to his bag and grabbed his   
razor and shaving cream. He had forgotten to get them when he retrieved his  
pants. Duke put it down to nerves. It was somewhat comforting to see that  
Scarlett was just as uncomfortable. Back in the bathroom, he stood in front of the  
mirror and covered his chin and upper lip with lather. He saw in the reflection that  
Scarlett was already fully dressed. She was probably packed as well.  
Duke smiled to himself at the thought.   
  
He could see that she was watching him in the mirror as he slid the razor across his  
cheeks. It made him self conscious, and he managed to nick his chin. A thin  
trickle of blood wandered into the foam that ran along his jaw line. Duke sucked in a mouthful  
of air to stop the stream of obscenities he would have normally uttered. Behind him,   
Scarlett laughed.  
  
I'm guessing you swear like a sailor when you cut yourself shaving.  
  
Duke smiled at her reflection in the mirror, Usually. Hurts like Hell. Then you've  
gotta put after shave on it, he carefully finished the rest of his face and washed the  
remaining foam off with a quick splash of water. Toweling off his face, he turned to look at   
her, I'll bet you used to watch your father shave. Duke decided to skip the  
Old Spice today, after all.  
  
Not really. My father has had a bushy beard for as long as I can remember,  
she sat down on his bed as he walked past and shoved the razor and can of cream back  
into the pocket of his duffle. He pulled out a clean t-shirt and pulled it over his head, and sat down to put on his dress shoes. H e used a sock to polish the toe of one shoe before he put it on. She handed him a dress shirt from the pile on the chair.  
  
Thanks, but I've got a cleaner one in my duffle here, he rolled the dirty  
shirt into a ball and looked in his pack for the one he had folded carefully in tissue to  
avoid wrinkles I could use the tie, though, he slid his arms into the shirt and quickly  
did up the buttons. He glanced at her as she wordlessly handed him his tie. It occurred  
to Duke that the only women who had ever seen him dress were his mother, and those  
who had been awake the morning after in time to see him go. He suddenly  
felt very aware of how this situation might sound out of context. Hell, it sounded  
pretty suspicious in context, especially if one added the words morning after'. Nervously,  
he tried to knot his tie and found it giving him more trouble than usual. His fingers just  
wouldn't follow his mind's direction. He tried again, to no avail, and sighed in  
frustration.  
  
Scarlett came over and took the tie out of his hands, you're going  
to hurt the yourself, yanking it around like that, Duke found himself looking down at  
her as she deftly maneuvered the ends into a crisp knot. She pursed her lips tightly together in concentration. The sweet smell wafting up from her hair was intoxicating. She   
finished, and smoothed the tie down on his chest, There, all done. She smiled up at him.  
  
Duke once again found himself at a loss for words. He was caught in those  
eyes, that smile. Her hand still rested on his chest. He felt his heart start to pound, and  
stepped back quickly before she could feel it. The mood was broken. Duke quickly turned  
away and crammed his dirty shirt into his duffle bag, we'd better get moving. I have to   
pack up my old quarters and get Pulaski. It could take all day.  
  
He grabbed his bags and headed for the door. He opened it, and stood for  
a while letting his eyes adjust to the bright light outside. He jogged to the car and realized  
that he had forgotten the keys. Turning back, he ran right into Scarlett. Sorry, forgot  
the keys, he chuckled, can't load up without the keys. She had already grabbed her   
bags. With a free hand, she held up the keys to the sedan and gave the a short jingle.   
  
I grabbed them from the dresser on my way out.  
  
Ahh, quick thinker. We could use one of those. Duke chuckled again, nervously.  
He wondered if she thought he was as big an idiot as he did. He certainly sounded  
like one. He opened the trunk and dropped his bags in. He stepped back and held his  
hand out for her luggage, Allow me.  
  
She slowly handed over her bags, Um. If you don't mind, I think I'll spend the day  
in town.  
  
Duke was surprised, You sure? She didn't look sure  
  
Uh huh. I saw a movie theater on the way in, and I'll bet there's a nice  
quiet library in town. I'll get lunch and eat it by the river.  
  
Duke put her bags in the trunk next to his, slammed it shut, then leaned against it  
on both hands. He sighed. She boosted herself up and sat on the trunk next to him.  
  
You weren't planning on flying out from Benning, were you?  
  
No. No, as a matter of fact, I was going to ship my stuff out from there, but I had  
us booked on an evening flight leaving from the Columbus airport up near the university,  
Duke stared at his hands and wondered if perhaps he hadn't met her expectations. He had  
been somewhat looking forward to spending the day with her; showing her around   
Benning, showing her off to that prick of an L.T. as he flashed his new shoulder patch and   
escaped finally from the man's inane control.  
  
Well, then, you can pick me up in town. I'll be at the Bullseye from 5 on. I'll  
get a salad or something for dinner. You and Pulaski could join me. I'm sure he'd  
like to get his hands on some real food before shipping out, he could tell from the sound  
of her voice that she was smiling. Duke couldn't bring himself to meet her smile. Before  
he had been scared of getting into something with her. Now, he was scared of having  
messed up any chance he had. God, this was confusing.  
  
Was it something I did? he said half jokingly. He looked at her and tried to  
appear jovial. She smiled broadly back.  
  
Of course not!  
  
Duke stopped smiling, Was it something I DIDN'T do? his mind flashed  
back to last night. She'd asked him to stay, didn't she? Perhaps it wasn't just the drink.  
Maybe she was hurt that he hadn't stayed. He might have insulted her. Idiot!  
He had the chance, and let it pass him by. Maybe he should have-  
  
No, her voice cut him off mid-thought, no, it wasn't. You've been the   
perfect gentleman, really.  
  
Therein lies the problem, Duke thought to himself. You sure you'll be OK?  
  
She smiled again, sure I'm sure. I'm a big girl now, I can take care of myself.  
A bus pulled up to the curb. The placard over the windshield read town center'. Look,  
I bet that bus will take me right where I want to go.  
  
Duke looked at her glumly, It will.  
  
Well, I'd better hurry, then. You too. See you after five! She rushed off  
to the bus and climbed in. The door creaked shut and it took off in a cloud of  
black smoke. Duke watched it go, cursing to himself. He sighed deeply, climbed into  
the sedan and drove towards Benning. Once again, duty called.  
  
  


  
****  


  
Duke packed the last of his belongings into a cardboard box and sealed the lid  
with a strip of brown tape. He stood up and stretched, feeling his back pop as  
the vertebrae slid back into place. He looked around at the bare walls and was amazed  
at how much bigger the room looked, now devoid of any clue of his being there. He took  
the box over to the now empty desk and addressed it with a sharpie marker. From the  
street number, there was no way of telling that it was actually going to the new   
headquarters. The address Duke was writing was the same one he would sent to his   
mother, a mail hub in nearby Keystone City. Mail for the Joes would collect there, to   
be picked up by an unmarked van driven by whomever was doing mail call that week. It   
was tedious, but kept family members and civilians one step away from the truth, and thus   
one step away from danger.  
  
Duke loaded the boxes onto a nearby cart and took them down to the mail room.  
It was annoying how much it cost to ship a few packages these days, especially if you   
wanted them arriving in one piece. He drew the attendant's attention to one box,  
see that writing there? It says fragile'. See to it that box avoids the normal abuse you   
ham-handed twits normally put my mail through, the attendant knew Duke well, a few   
months go, he had been sweating under heavy ruck with him at his back.  
  
What's in it sarge?  
  
Like you need to know. In that box there just happens to be a crystal ball given  
to me by my father, and to him by his father. And my father is dead, so I'd be really  
upset if anything happened to it, right? Duke turned on his heel and headed for the door.  
  
What does he do, tell the future? the attendant mumbled under his breath.  
  
In a heartbeat, Duke was back at the desk, I sure as Hell do, soldier. I'll  
tell you yours right now, he put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes for a second.  
Opening them, he drilled an icy blue glare right through the attendant's face, I see my box   
arriving all dented and bashed. Then I see me taking out my crystal. Look, it's all in shards.   
It's hazy, soldier, but I think I can make out me grabbing the biggest, sharpest shard of   
crystal and coming back here to shove it up your ass. Duke leaned forward, pushing the   
attendant back with an icy stare until the man was nearly off balance, the future is in your   
hands soldier. If I were you, I'd take steps to keep my vision' from coming true.  
  
  
  
Duke growled low in his chest.  
  
Yes sergeant!  
  
That's right, kid, I work for a living, Duke strode out of the mail room, leaving the  
attendant to fret the care of his boxes. He smiled to himself. Damn, he was going to miss   
that.  
  
Looking at his watch, Duke discovered it was time for lunch. Might as well  
say goodbye to the commissary. Not that he would miss the food. The camaraderie   
would be the hardest thing to leave. Duke had enjoyed the mid-day break; time  
enough to take a load off and talk to a few friends, or to just sit quietly and read the  
paper.  
  
He stepped through the door, went to grab a tray, and turned around to  
find himself face to face with the L.T. He snapped to attention and saluted.  
  
I hear you're leaving us Sgt. Hauser.  
  
Yessir. New assignment sir.  
  
Odd. I never received any sort of REQUEST for you to be transferred  
from my command. I find it distinctly insulting. You were promoted without my  
input, the L.T. picked absent-mindedly at a nonexistent speck of dust on his sleeve.  
  
I'm sorry sir, arrogant prick. Most officers would have put him at   
ease by now. Duke gritted his teeth. He was glad to be nearly free of the  
bastard.  
  
Yes, well, you'll be happy to know that I have appealed your transfer order.  
Those desk jockeys at the Pentagon can find someone else's staff to steal.  
  
Of course, sir. Duke felt his head begin to pound. He doubted the L.T.'s  
appeal would hold up, but it could cause migraines. He had dressed down Armbruster.  
He COULD try the same thing with the L.T., but he didn't bother. The man had too  
much ego to let a subordinate even get that far. The soft-palmed nitwit had never seen  
a battlefield, yet had a good chunk of Benning's Special Forces school under his thumb. He   
treated his staff like slaves and the troops like equipment.  
  
I've worked out a new assault plan, I wanted you to go over it with your students.  
  
Sir. I'm scheduled on a flight out this evening, sir.  
  
The L.T. face spread in a thin smile, Yes, well, I've taken the liberty of  
canceling your flight. Rank has its privileges, sergeant. he waved in the  
direction of his office, why don't you come to me after lunch and we'll go over my  
new design?  
  
Duke had an answer for that. Enough was enough. Well, sir, you see-  
  
He won't have time to meet you, lieutenant. Call's come from above.  
A General Abernanthy wants him back in Washington before tomorrow morning,  
The Colonel smiled at Duke over the L.T.'s shoulder. The L.T. spun around and saluted  
hastily.  
  
But Colonel Howerton, Hauser is a valued asset to the program. He's   
irreplaceable!  
  
Never heard you tell him that, lieutenant. Colonel Howerton glanced at Duke,  
At ease, son.  
  
Thank you, sir. Duke slid into an ease stance.  
  
I received an angry call from the General this morning, boys. Seems   
someone has canceled his new Top's flight and challenged his transfer orders. Orders  
I recall reading and signing off on myself.  
  
That was me, Colonel, the L.T. snorted righteously, damn Pentagon  
bureaucracy thought they could step around me and take my men. Well, they can  
think again.  
  
They don't have to think about it at all, son. They're in the Pentagon. They  
do what they damn well please.  
  
But sir-  
  
No buts about it, son, Colonel Howerton sounded exasperated, You've  
managed to piss off a well regarded General without even meeting him, son.  
That's quite an accomplishment, even for you. Don't find yourself a  
way to add a Colonel to that list, he pointed a finger at the L.T.'s chest, you'd  
best let the man go, cause you're fixin' to open a can o' worms bigger than you  
know. And I'm not about to let you call down that hail o' shit on my base.   
  
Duke smiled to himself. Colonel Howerton turned to him, Go about  
you business, Top. I know you have to pick up that tank jockey over in the 3rd.  
Get some grub and go get your man.  
  
Yessir. Thank you sir, Duke joined the line to grab a burger. He caught  
the end of Colonel Howerton's conversation with the L.T. as he left.  
  
Sir, I don't understand why you're letting him go.  
  
Lieutenant, that man is wasted here.  
  
We all are, sir.  
  
No, Lieutenant, we're not. He's ten times the soldier you are. All you'll  
ever amount to is a fancy paper pusher. Right here is the best place for you.  
  
The L.T. was quiet. Duke didn't have to look to see the rage simmering just  
beneath the skin of his face. It was delicious. Then the Colonel spoke again.  
  
  
  
Yes, Colonel?  
  
Your fly's open boy.  
  
Yes, sir.  
  
  


***********


	9. 9

Duke strode across the parade ground, headed towards where the Third was quartered. He was running late. It was almost four, and he wanted to get Pulaski and head back to the Bullseye in time to grab a decent dinner before he had to shepherd the newest members of his flock to the new base. The thought popped into his head that the more free time with Scarlett he could wrangle, the better. Duke felt his ears get warm and squashed the thought somewhere safe and out of the way.

Duke found the sergeant in charge of the Third and asked for Pulaski.

"Steeler? He's yours. About time someone took that moody bastard off my hands. Great tank jockey, but a pain in the ass, if you ask me."

Duke raised his eyebrows, but said nothing. He'd read Pulaski's psychological profile. It hinted at something roiling under the surface. Still, he's managed to function pretty well despite whatever was bothering him. Pulaski had some admirable qualifications. Besides, thought Duke to himself, what experienced soldier _doesn't_ have demons? How many times a night do you wake up in a cold sweat, Hauser?

"I just saw him on the pay phone down that hall a half hour or so ago. Probably still on it. He's stuck on some girl in town. Just this side of jailbait, if you ask me," the sergeant waved vaguely off to the right.

Duke made his way down the indicated hallway and found Pulaski, as promised, in front of a bank of payphones. 

"I'm not lying to ya, babeYou'd better believe itYou know I wouldn't say it if it weren't true. You get that basket packed, and we'll have on of them picnics you see in those movies I don't know how private it'll be, babefrom now on, I'll have way more time for you, I promise." Pulaski laughed and scratched the dark stubble on his chin. He didn't notice Duke's approach. 

Duke cleared his throat and saw Pulaski start.

"Hang on a sec, babe," Pulaski put his hand over the receiver and turned to face Duke. His eyes narrowed as he took the stranger confronting him, "how can I help ya, Top?"

"Wrap up you call and read this, soldier," Duke handed over the now-familiar envelope of new orders. Pulaski nodded and returned the phone to his ear

"Babe, can I get back to ya?" he continued to stare at Duke thoughtfully as he spoke. "ReallyAs soon as I canyou bet, babe....Babe?..Well, I'm not exactly alone hereyou know how I feelall right, already! I love you! There! Happy now?I figuredwell, bye!" Pulaski blushed and grinned foolishly.

Duke shook his head. Silly to get tangled up in a woman that way. A picture of Scarlett popped unbidden into his mind. Duke growled to himself and fought to banish the redhead from his mind as Pulaski tore the envelope open and roughly yanked out the contents. Inside, he wondered what kind of fool he had looked like last night. Bear was probably laughing himself silly. Duke could only imagine. Hauser, stuck on some woman! At least Dragon would be discreet.

"Of all theShit! You've gotta be kidding me!" Pulaski's face went slack in disbelief.

"No joke, soldier. You're mine, effective now. Go get packed and say your goodbyes, we've got less than an hour to get some grub and catch our flight." 

"But that takes me all the way up to New York State!" Pulaski glanced back at the phone.

"The faster we get there, the happier I'll be. Move," Pulaski slammed his fist into the wall next to the phone, leaving a substantial dent. Duke grabbed the man by the shoulder and whispered angrily into his ear, " Don't even think of pulling that kind of tantrum on me, soldier. That wall's going to come out of your next paycheck. Deal with it like a man. Go pack, now!" Duke's voice was dangerously low. Pulaski's foul response combined with his acute awareness of his own personal frustration had cut his temper short, " If you wanted to settle down, you shouldn't have signed enlistment papers," Duke tried to straighten out Pulaski and strengthen his own resolve. Love and the service dwelt on mutually exclusive plains of existence. Any fool knows that. Any fool

Pulaski stalked off to his quarters to pack, leaving Duke alone with thoughts he'd rather not deal with.

***

It was a quiet trip into town. Pulaski sat brooding, and although his eyes were locked on the window, Duke doubted the man was aware of the scenery flying by. Packing hadn't taken long; Pulaski had little in the way of personal belongings. The subsequent phone call, however, had threatened to drag on for hours, No explanation of sudden upheaval could ever really satisfy loved ones not familiarized with the oft nomadic way of the professional soldier. Duke himself could remember being made painfully aware of that in his own youth. He had come to grips with a certain lack of romantic stability. Pulaski would figure it out soon. Eventually, Duke had to cut the man short and order him off the line. Not a word had been spoken since.

They pulled in at the Bullseye a few minutes after five. Pulaski, lost in himself, didn't seem to notice. He came to when Duke got out and slammed the door.

"We're meeting O'Hara here. I figured we could all grab a bite before we go to the airport," Duke waited at the door for Pulaski to catch up, "A steak would probably do you some good, soldier."

Pulaski just grunted.

Scarlett was there waiting for them. She sat in a booth by the window, head bowed over a book. Duke found himself smiling as he lead Pulaski over to where she sat. 

"Has Spencer solved the mystery?" Duke expected her to start. She didn't. Comforting thought-anyone trained for covert ops needed to develop a constant awareness of their surroundings. Duke's grin widened-Scarlett was _good. _

"Not yet. He's still annoying the suspects," she let the book drop and smiled up at them, "you seem to have succeeded, though."

"Oh yes, mission accomplished and all that good stuff," Duke slid into the seat across from her, "Sergeant O'Hara, this is Sergeant Ralph Pulaski, one of the finest tank jockeys in the country."

Scarlett stood up and shook Pulaski's hand warmly, "Call me Scarlett. From what I understand we're not going to stand much on formality."

"Not as long as discipline is kept up, anyhow," Duke nodded.

The dark cloud dissipated from Pulaski's face, "I usually go by Steeler. Nice to have a few ladies in the ranks. Whaddya call it? Refreshing."

Scarlett laughed, and Duke felt his stomach flip involuntarily. "Steeler, its nice to hear you say that. I don't know too many grunts who would."

"People tell me I'm one of them modern thinkers," 

"I would agree. Sit down and lets all get something to eat. I'm starving."

Steeler sat down next to her. Duke tried to ignore the urge to growl. He was surprised at the jealousy washing over his gut. "It's going to have to be quick," he glanced at his watch.

"Don't worry," Scarlett's blue eyes twinkled, "I can bolt my food with the best." A waitress arrived and handed out menus. 

Steeler chuckled, "My kind of woman." 

Duke tried to ignore that as well.

Scarlett kept her promise to keep up with the men and they all easily made their plane on time. Together they took up a row, giving enough of a nod to formality to offer Scarlett the window seat. She had buried her nose back in Spencer before the landing gear was up. Steeler stared across her out the window and disappeared once again inside himself. Duke stretched his long legs into the aisle and wrestled with his feelings.

***

So, Duke, two more brought into the fold." Hawk's chair creaked as he leaned back.

"Yes, sir."

"And you tied up your own loose ends at Benning?"

"No problem there, sir."

"Good. How are O'Hara and Pulaski fitting in?" Hawk's fingers ran absentmindedly through his hair.

"Pretty easily, although Pulaski had me worried there for a while. Almost had to cut phone privileges. Those calls back south were getting expensive."

"Hmmm. Well, he seems to have calmed down. I have to say, although I'm one of the biggest promoters of a co-ed unit, one of my least favorite things is to see my soldiers wrapped up in relationships. Cold as it is to say it, that kind of thing gets in the way and is more trouble than its worth."

Duke thought of Scarlett. "Yes sir. A difficult thing to enforce, sir. We're only human."

"That's true, Duke. But you're also soldiers. If you wanted to settle down, you should never have enlisted. Am I right."

The phrase echoed through Duke's brain mockingly. His heart sank, "Yes, sir, you're right. Absolutely." He walked over to the window and stared out.

"Good, sergeant. Carry on."


End file.
